Fix You AU
by verynahcewritings
Summary: Tragic event after a cheery evening leaves Katara broken, and Aang in a coma. Characters are in their twenties, story takes place in Alternate Universe. Canon pairings. Going to attempt to go by events that happen in episodes.
1. Chapter 1

I reached over, lacing our fingers together, resting them on the center console; the cold leather a slight shock to the growing warmth between our hands.

I looked over at him, a contented smile spread across his lips while his eyes gave me a quick sweep before diverting themselves back to the road. His fingers giving my own a light squeeze, sending a jolt of electricity up my arm and straight to my heart; he had proposed to me only an hour before, in a manner that was entirely him:

"_I want you to marry me." His face held no expression, his eyes, however, were glazed over and shining with confidence, already knowing what my answer would be. Straight to the point, no holding back what was on his mind; he had almost always been this way with me. He knew what he wanted._

_I continued walking along the railing of the bridge, taking my time, watching my toes pass over the slightly uneven masonry, hopping down when I reached the end. I purposely angled my body away from his and towards the water, teasing him a little for his sure attitude ; the beautiful grove that had instantly become my favorite place to be many years before hand; courtesy of my mother, seemed to move in one graceful motion as a light, crisp breeze blew through the trees._

_Our reflections shone brightly on the water, the full moon and the stars painting an otherworldly background for our serene and rippled figures. His form rising several inches above my own; I watched as his hand encompassed mine, as his eyebrows rose, and as he cracked a nervous grin. _

_I turned to look at him, smiling hugely, throwing myself into his arms, embracing him, melding our bodies together, if only to escape the cold that had settled along the water's edge. That had been answer enough for him._

The wind kicked up before we could even see the clouds; pushing the car past the dotted lines in the center of the road. The night sky was becoming darker, inky, and ominous as the stars disappeared from view. Then came the lightening: angry flashes of light that cracked the sky into pieces, continuing with their outbursts of rage and hostility as thunder tore through the trees that lined the sides of the road.

We came to a stop light, the rain coming down in torrents, pummeling on the car, creating a sound of its own nearly as loud as the thunder. He looked over at me, smiling at me, my favorite smile; his eyes glistening with pure elation. My fingers brushed against his lips as he brought my hand to his face; a bright light illuminated the back of his head, his hair became translucent, his face silhouetted, I could only imagine what his face might have looked like as he read the expression on mine as I realized what the light meant.

The impact rang loud in my ears, more loudly than anything I had heard in my life. My body met roughly with the door, my head slamming into the glass hard enough to shatter it; his fingertips clenching mine was all that I was completely aware of. What I could make out of the horizon switched out with the ground several times before coming to a stop: I could feel the wet pavement beneath my fingers, one half of my face submerged in a puddle, his fingers were limp in mine. I squeezed them, desperate for some comfort, some kind of response; I received no such thing, instead, I was met with darkness; the soundtrack to my state of disbelief being nothing but that of the rain. There was no longer any lightening, no thunder, no wind. Silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**2. Cold**

My eyes looked over the patterns in the ceiling above our bed. I had the whole thing memorized; every nook and cranny, every shadow, mapped out in my mind. I looked over at the clock on the far wall of the room, knowing that any minute the alarm on my phone would go off; five a.m..

I slipped out from under the stiff sheets of the bed, and stretched my equally stiff limbs out above my head before reaching for my phone on the bedside table, as I did so, an obnoxious tune rang from its speaker. I shut it off and tossed my phone onto the bed, grabbing a towel off the bedpost and heading to the bathroom for a shower.

I quickly washed myself, getting out and wrapping myself in my towel, wringing out my hair a bit above the carpet in front of the tub. I blindly rummaged through my drawers, pulling out whatever set of undergarments my finger wrapped around first and putting them on robotically. My closet was nearly empty, the corner of the room was where most of the inhabitants of the closet lie. I managed to find a pair of old, tattered jeans and slipped into them easily. In the back of the closet I found a couple of t-shirts: a purple one, a black one, and a blue one, I yanked the black one off its hanger and closed the closet, walking back towards the bathroom as I pulled it over my head.

I brushed out my hair, tousling it a bit to help it dry; it had grown at least three inches in the past six months; it had darkened by at least three shades, to where it now looked like a dull brown.

I rolled on some deodorant, sprayed a bit of body spray on my neck and wrists, mindful of the marks that marred the skin all the way up my arm and back down across the back of my hand. I brushed my teeth and checked myself in the mirror one last time before turning off the light and walking back into the bedroom. I needed more sleep, more nourishment, more happiness; my eyes were flat, dark, and lifeless. Lifeless; I felt my heart twinge at the thought, my legs moving faster , my arms reaching out blindly for my phone, the necklace on top of my dresser, my scarf at the end of the bed, my jacket hanging on the door.

I walked out and into the sitting room, passing by the couch that had been neglected for quite some time, stepping into the kitchen long enough to grab an apple out of the fruit bowl by the fridge.

I slipped on my boots and grabbed my purse, checking for my keys before closing the front door behind me, taking a bite of my apple as I opened the door that gave way to the stairs. All that remained of my apple was a core by the time I made it to the ground floor.

My neighbor was on her way back up, a bag full of laundry tucked under her arm. She gave me a weary smile, "Good luck, Katara," she added as I opened the door that led out to the parking lot, "I'm sure it will happen soon, dear," I heard just before the door closed behind me. I wanted to believe her.

The drive to the hospital was short and silent, I hadn't even bothered to turn on the radio. As I entered the building, I could feel myself slipping into a sense of despair, of hopelessness. The receptionist at the front desk greeted me like an old friend, smiling sympathetically at me as I passed, not even bothering to tell me where to go, or that visiting hours didn't start for another three hours.

I turned down the next hallway on my left, finding comfort in the white walls and floors that I couldn't explain, walking into the room with the number one-hundred on the door.

He hadn't moved at all since I had seen him last, which had only been a few hours ago, but it was disheartening all the same. I walked over to his bedside, crawling onto the bed with him, being as careful and as gentle as I could as I adjusted my weight, curling into his body, resting my head on his shoulder, and wrapping my arm loosely around him. "Good morning, Aang," I whispered, hoping with everything in me that he could hear me. My fingers moved up to his head, running through the long, shaggy hair he had acquired in the months since the accident.

His body was cold, his heartbeat was slow, but familiar, soothing in sound. I traced the sides of his face, his nose, his eyelids, his lips, wishing so much that they were warm beneath my fingertips. The bruises on his body had long since faded, but the scars were still there: I ghosted over the long, pink mark that ran from the base of his ear to the tip of his chin, remembering what it had looked like a few months before, shivering at the thought. My fingers made their way down his neck and to his collar bone, lightly skimming over the mark that tarnished his lovely pale skin, the bone beneath feeling slightly malformed. My hand reached his ribs, running over each bone, knowing automatically which ones to be careful with; the corners of my mouth continued to sag as I checked over his body, doing as I did every morning.

My eyes glanced down at the shape beneath the blanket that I knew would be his leg, my fingers splaying out over what I could reach, remembering how swollen, bruised, purple his leg had looked before. I let a small sigh escape from my lips as I prepared myself for the last part of my checkup; I ran my fingers over the base of his skull, knowing that this was the injury that had done him in, that had put him in this state, that had made my Aang so cold. I let my fingers relax, burying my face into his shoulder, trying not to let any tears escape, so that I wouldn't dampen his gown.

I fell asleep, only waking up when my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was eleven, Sokka was asking for his daily report, I responded as I did every day, telling him that things were the same, and that I was going to be stopping by in an hour or so for lunch. I put my phone back in my pocket, ignoring it when it vibrated again, and looked at Aang, hating that his lips weren't upturned, that I couldn't see the beautiful gray color of his eyes. I leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek, rubbing the other side of his face with the pad of my thumb, before standing up and grabbing my coat.

Something was off, I didn't feel right. I wasn't supposed to be gathering my things, or walking towards the door. His cheeks had been warm, my lips had tingled when they touched his skin. My purse was thrown somewhere in the room, my coat dropped behind me as I ran back to his side, my hands involuntarily moving for his face, touching his lips; my blood sang and tingled with elation as they were met with nearly equal warmth. I brought my ear down to his chest, laughing excitedly as I recognized what I was hearing: his heart pounded in his chest, loudly, surely, full of strength.

I scrambled onto his bed, my legs straddling his waist, my body leaning into his, touching his lips lightly with my own; disappointment spreading through me as they were met with no response; I had known it would be so. "Katara?"

Sokka asked quietly, standing in the doorway, his eyes full of questions, full of pity, of sadness, his lips set in a frown. I made no move, I directed my eyes back to Aang's face, noting that there was now a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks, his lips, even his nose. "He's warm," I murmured. The room held no other sound but of three people breathing. He crossed the room quickly, placing a hand on my shoulder, leaning in a bit to get a look for himself.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Katara," his voice was getting louder, more authoritative, "don't do this to yourself ag—" I turned to look at him, my eyes pleading; I shook my head at his words, forbidding him to finish his sentence.

"I'm sure," I said, turning my head back towards the face I loved the most in the world, "trust me, Sokka, I kn—" the words died in my throat as his eyelids began to flutter; the only sound in the room was of one person breathing. My heart was soaring, fluttering as fast as a hummingbird's wings, my eyes glazing over as his eyes began to open. His beautiful storm cloud eyes meeting with my own, I looked at him, not sure if I was hallucinating, or if I were still asleep, that this was a dream of the cruelest intent. His lips curled into a glorious smile, his eyes crinkling ever so slightly as he looked up at me, and I couldn't help but to smile back, to breathe again, my hand claiming the side of his face.

His expression began to change as I traced my fingertips along his cheekbone, his brows furrowed, and he frowned, his mind finally processing the situation, his lips parted and he tried to speak, failing the first couple of times, a raspy sound escaping from his lips rather than words. The anticipation of hearing his voice again was unbearable.

Anger flashed across his face for a split second before he tried speaking again, "What are you doing?" he managed to ask, his words confusing me; I couldn't understand why he would ask such a thing, surely he could tell that I was excited, that I was showing him physically. I shook my head ever so slightly, pulling back a little bit, but not removing myself from his lap. It felt wrong, blasphemous even, to do so.

Sokka spoke up then, "Katara, I think you need to get off of him," he said; he knew something that I didn't. I shook my head stubbornly at him, vocalizing a curt 'no,' watching Aang's facial expression change from gratitude, and then to shock as his eyes met mine again, my heart responded accordingly, loving the feeling that radiated throughout my limbs, that I had gone without for months.

"Who are you?" His eyes narrowed as the words left his lips. My heart stopped, I wasn't breathing, I was sure that this was a nightmare.

"Please, tell me you didn't mean to say that," I begged. Several pairs of footsteps reverberated throughout the room, and a pair of strong hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me away from and off of the boy beneath me.

"Please," I muttered, tears falling freely from my eyes, my heart throbbing painfully in my chest. A team of white coats surrounded the bed as I was pulled from the room, my eyes never leaving the pained face of the boy who watched as the tears fell from my face.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Alright, so I've decided that it would probably be better if I went off on my own tangent a bit with this story rather than trying to work an episode into every chapter. That's not to say that I won't do that in a few of them, just don't expect it for every single one. It won't be melancholic the whole way through, I promise. There will be happy moments, and mush, and friendship, laughter, and violence a bit later. Just wait it out. :] There will be villainy. **_

_**Another thing that I've decided to do, was to bring in Toph and Suki. The time line is all wacked out, I know this, so just bare with me.**_

_**I had to come up with some last names for the main characters, and I apologize if you aren't particularly fond of them, but it's my story, so there.**_

_**Aang: Adlar (meaning 'eagle')  
Katara/Sokka: Leiwin (meaning 'dear friend') Pronounced Lay-win  
Suki: D'Lyle (Meaning 'of or from the island') pronounced De laisle, aisle, but with an 'l' :]  
Toph: Bei Fong, no change there**_

_**Thanks to Light-Eco-Sage for helping me out with the names. :]**_

_**As the story continues there will be more updates on names. Now, finally, here is chapter 3:**_

**3. Acceptance**

"Katara, please," Sokka pleaded. I could hear him, the sound of desperation in his voice, but I had absolutely no desire to adhere to his wishes. I was being silly, over dramatic; I should have expected that this would happen, after all, what had gone _right_ in the past six months anyway?

I couldn't let myself think that negatively, if anything, Aang was awake, and that's what was important. I looked at Sokka shamefully, "I'm sorry." He frowned at me, and pulled me into his arms.

"Don't be, little sister," his fingers brushed over my hair, "I should have said something sooner." Regret and shame took control of his vocal cords, and they tightened a bit at the end, his voice losing its strength.

He had been my rock through all of this, he hadn't broken down, at least not in front of me. He had held me as I cried, listened when I needed to talk, neglected his own fiancé for the sake of my health, and had never asked anything of me.

His body shook, a sob breaking through his lips, cracking through his shell; Aang was his best friend, he felt all of the loss that I did.

"You couldn't possibly have known, it was all just speculation, not fact," I whispered, giving him a squeeze, reassuring him. As quickly as he had started crying, he had stopped. He pulled away from me, looking me in the eye.

"He'll get better, Katara."

"I know."

"He's strong, he'll remember," he was speaking more for the benefit of himself.

"He will," I nodded in agreement, offering a small smile, "we'll help him." It was my turn to be strong. I needed to be, not just for myself, but for my brother, for Aang.

"He doesn't have anyone else," he whispered as he pulled me into a tight embrace. His phone rang, breaking the silence in the otherwise empty hallway, and he answered it quickly. It was Suki, it was undoubtedly late in the afternoon, she always called to check on him around four, he was always here with me in the evenings. He told her about Aang, his voice wavering as he gave her all of the details of his condition, glancing at me from the corner of his eye as he spoke of his response to our presence. The conversation ended with an exchange of love from both parties, and he put his phone back into his jacket pocket.

"She needs me," he said, looking a bit unsure.

"Well then you should probably head home."

"I don't want to leave right now." I shook my head, reaching forward and placing my hand on his shoulder.

"I'll be fine, Sokka," I smiled, "go home to Suki." His hand found its place over mine and he smiled at me, before nodding and turning to leave. I waited until he turned the corner before letting myself slide down the wall, burying my face into my knees.

_Sokka had pulled me out of Aang's room before I could break down; that would have done no one any good, I would have simply been in the way. I cried in the hallway just outside the door instead, only stopping when one the doctor and a few nurses filed out of the room. The doctor stood in front of me, waiting patiently for me to give her my attention, the look in her eyes telling me everything that I didn't want to hear._

"_Ma'am, could I have a few words with you, please?" Her tone was polite, practiced, and completely professional. Detached. I gave her a weak nod, urging her to continue speaking. It surprised me a bit when she sat down next to me, leaning against the wall for support._

"_As you know, Mr. Adlar suffered massive injuries all over the left side of his body, all of which healed phenomenally, skull fracture included."_

"_I am aware," I conceded. _

"_His brain, however, didn't fare so well," she paused, expecting a dramatic response to her words. I simply nodded, again, telling her to continue without words._

"_I spoke to your brother, Mr. Leiwin about this a month or two ago," I was momentarily taken back by her words, a little hurt that Sokka had said nothing, "Aang's coma was not just caused by the blunt force trauma to the back of his skull, but the extreme state of disrepair his body had been in, it was a defense mechanism; his body's reaction to massive amounts of stress." I looked away from her face, resting my chin on my knees._

"_We assumed that he would come to a lot sooner than he had," she shook her head and furrowed her eyebrows, not even bothering to look in my direction any longer; I couldn't meet her eyes._

"_I had initially guessed that his injury might have been severe enough to cause for amnesia to set in, but as his bones began to heal, so did his brain, and I began to guess differently." She shifted uncomfortably, leaning a bit closer to me._

"_I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Ms. Leiwin," she paused momentarily, placing an awkward hand on my shoulder, "but Mr. Adlar has absolutely no recollection of his life before the accident; nothing at all. He doesn't seem to even be able to remember his own name, his birthdate, or even who his parents are."_

_I laughed a little, shocking her into silence, "He never knew who they were anyway, he was an orphan."_

"_I see," she patted my shoulder, beginning to pull herself up into a standing position._

"_Will he gain any of his memories back?" I asked, my thoughts focusing on not allowing my heart to hope for anything._

"_We can't be sure; sometimes it happens, and other times, it doesn't," her words sound sad, genuinely so this time, "only time will tell."_

"_What can I do to help him?" _

"_Just be here for him, talk to him, but don't push him. You have to remember that he's extremely disorientated right now, he's lost, confused, and the last thing he needs is to have a woman who he doesn't recognize pushing herself all over him." Her words came out quickly, sounding harsh, brusque, but truth all the same. She was right, and I would do my best to own up to them. I nodded, shaking her hand and mouthing a thank you._

It had taken me a few hours since then to stand up and make my way back down the hall towards Aang's room where I now stood, trying to collect myself and reign in my emotions. I knew what I had to do, that this would take all of the strength that I possessed within my body, fully aware that I would do what I had to do to bring him back to me, to fix him.

I took a deep breath, reaching for the handle, turning it slowly, peering into the room cautiously. I hadn't expected to see him awake; old habits die hard, he watched me as I closed the door behind me, his eyes observing my every move.


	4. Chapter 4

Now we switch to Aang's point of view.

Next chapter will introduce a bit more of the plot. You'll see. :]

**4. Brilliant**

"I'm sorry," she said, averting her eyes, "I probably should have knocked first." She had caught me looking over my body, checking for all of the scars I had been made aware of. I was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. That had been one of the things I had asked for first, and as luck would have it, someone had been kind enough to keep a set of clothes in the drawer by the bed; I suspected it had more than likely been the flustered woman nervously fidgeting by the door.

"It's OK," I smiled at her, "from what the doctor told me, you've probably seen a lot more of me than this." She laughed lightly, and I couldn't help but to feel slightly comforted by the sound.

"All the same," she said as she walked towards the chair in the corner of the room, curling her slim legs under her as she sat. Her eyes met mine, and I could see the longing, the despair hidden within them.

Her presence in the room had immediately made my body react in strange ways; I felt drawn to her, and I knew that before, I probably would have gone to her without a second thought. My mind felt entirely different about the situation; I didn't know who this woman was, I didn't know if she was a good person, if she were trustworthy, even if almost every cell in my body was calling out to her.

"_One more time, Mr. Adlar, can you feel this?" From the moment I had opened my eyes, my senses and emotions had been put through test after test: first, with the girl who I was undoubtedly attracted to, sitting heavily on my hips, then, as she was abruptly ripped from my body, and again as I was told of my condition, followed by several different sets of hands poking and prodding every inch of my body. _

I could feel everything, that was undoubtedly so. My body had probably never been as acutely aware of every minute sensation that I could feel now.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, bringing me out of my reverie. Her arms were crossed tightly, her hands grabbing at her ribs.

"Physically," raising an eyebrow and smirking, "or mentally?" She paused momentarily, and I watched as her face ran through several different expressions before she answered.

"Both, I suppose."

"I feel great, well-rested," I chuckled at my ill-humor; she didn't seem to think it funny in the least. I waited a few moments before continuing, "Mentally, however, I'm pooped." She nodded, an empathetic smile gracing her features. Her hair fell into her face as she looked down at the ground and began to play with a piece of string hanging from the arm of the chair.

"I'm glad you're awake," her eyes met mine again, my heart giving a slow, painful thump at what I saw in them, "even if you don't remember me; I'm just glad that you're OK." She began to get up, and I suspected that this meant she would be leaving; I wasn't ready to be alone yet. I walked to her, placing a hand on her cheek, which caused her to gasp, and then whimper, my heart breaking further.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. She closed her eyes, tears welling up under the long, dark lashes that fell over the dark skin of her cheeks, "I can only imagine what this must be doing to you." A few pieces of hair stuck to her face as she shook her head at my words.

"Shut up," she murmured, pulling away from my hand, and then using her own to put it back down by my side.

"Sorry?"

"I'm not going to make this about me; that's not important right now, Aang." The way she said my name made me believe her words, that I was, in fact, more important, like I was the most significant being in her life. Although I didn't completely agree with her, I nodded, taking a step back from her, giving her a bit of space.

"That doesn't mean that I want you to leave," I watched her reaction to my words, to make sure that that was what she wanted, when she smiled, I felt my own lips curve up a bit.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to," she looked me up and down as she finished speaking, her cheeks reddening as she met my eyes again, "but you're probably going to have to put something more on." I laughed, and nodded, reaching for the shirt I had found earlier and throwing it over my head. It was a pale yellow color, a blue arrow ran down the length of each sleeve. I held my arms open wide, motioning down the front of me, posing a question of approval with a raised eyebrow.

She smirked, my eyes drawn to her lips, "Very nice; compliments your boxers." I gave her a cheeky grin before taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"So how old am I exactly?" I averted my eyes from her, looking out the window, the lights in the parking light bright enough for me to see a few people jogging to their cars with various objects held above their heads. It was raining, it had been doing so for the past couple of hours.

"Twenty-three," she breathed.

"How old are you?" I peeked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Twenty-four, I'll be twenty-five in two weeks." I smiled in spite of myself.

"Ah, who would have thought an older gal would fall for me?" Her smile lit up her entire face, my heart jolting as it touched her eyes, the blue reminiscent of an azure sky on a sunny day. I looked away from her, feeling even more guilty for not knowing who this beautiful creature was.

"Do I have any family here?" I asked cautiously, somehow knowing what the answer would be.

She frowned, the light in her eyes vanished, her cheeks lost all of their color, "No, Aang, I'm sorry." I nodded, closing my eyes, done with taking in the scenery.

"You're my family, aren't you, you and the other guy that was with you earlier."

"Yes."

"Do I live with you?" I asked, again knowing the answer to that; the doctor had told me that this woman was my fiancé after all; I just wanted to keep her talking. She nodded apprehensively, clearly afraid of what my reaction might be.

"Sokka has his own place, he's going to be married soon." I would have to remember that name. The man who had been behind her as I came to; his eyes were the same, but held a slightly different look to them. No, her eyes were entirely her own.

"If you aren't comfortable with that, we can work something else out," she added, her voice barely above a whisper. I frowned a little as I watched her tighten her arms around herself, giving me a fake smile. I shook my head, and looked down at my hands, noting all of the tiny scars that marked nearly every finger.

"Did the doc mention to you when I'd be able to leave?"

"No, but I could ask her if you'd like," her tone had picked up, traces of excitement and relief present in her voice; she had noticed that I hadn't taken her up on her proposal. I shook my head and nonchalantly waved her offer away with my hand.

"I'll do that when I see her next." Her hair bounced as she nodded and voiced an 'OK.' She stood up, the teal scarf around her neck falling forward, exposing a chain that hung around her neck. The chain was long, silver, a delicate and dainty ring hung from the end up it. My head throbbed as I looked at it, not even realizing I had crossed the room, that I had reached out for it, and now held it in my hand. My head ached, an image of water surged forward in my mind, lily pads, cattails, a willow tree. I dropped the ring, taking a step back from her, her face reflecting the shock I was sure was all over my own.

She looked at me impatiently, waiting for me to explain what had just happened; my hand found its way to the back of my head, the source of the pain that had started to recede, her eyebrows raising as I did so.

"Well that was weird," I said looking down at her.

"What happened?" her face animated, her body unconsciously leaning closer to mine.

"I'm not sure, but I definitely felt it here," I said wincing as I applied a bit of pressure to the sensitive spot on my head. She replaced my fingers with her own cool ones, rubbing in small soothing circles, she was so close that I could feel her breath on my skin. I raised an eyebrow, as she continued to massage my head.

"I saw water," I said slowly, a bit unsure of myself. Her fingers stopped for a split second, and her breath caught in her throat.

"Did you?" The elation in her voice could not have been hidden even had she tried. What hadn't made any sense to me had apparently made all the sense in the world to her. I nodded.

"Water, a tree, lily pads," my voice becoming more sure. Her fingers stopped moving all together and she let out a laugh, throwing her arms around my neck, her body pressing firmly into mine, shocking me; my arms hang numbly at my sides, not sure how to respond. My mind telling me that this was too much, but my body relishing in the feeling of her warm, firm, very female body against mine. I was happy to know that my libido hadn't suffered any damage.

"Brilliant!" She pulled herself closer to me, and I awkwardly wrapped my arms around her waist, leaning my head down to the side of her face, my nose buried in her hair. Her scent was lovely, familiar, soothing. She quieted, and stiffened up, abruptly pushing herself out of my arms.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to react so strongly," she apologized quickly, her words jumbling together, her excitement had still yet to fade. I laughed, and shrugged my shoulders.

"It's Ok." She smiled in response, her arms wrapping themselves around her front again, a few fingers closed around the ring on her necklace.

"What was that about anyway?"

"This," she showed me the necklace, holding the ring between a dainty thumb and pointer finger, "is yours," she said with a small smile, "or at least it was until you gave it to me."

I understood immediately, smiling hugely. I had associated the ring with something from the past, I had remembered something, if only vaguely. "Brilliant, indeed." We looked at each other for a few moments, both feeling a small sense of relief. We couldn't be sure that it would ever happen again.

"I should probably get going," my face fell a bit; I had never been much of a loner, that much I could remember, and now that I was fully conscious, I wasn't looking forward to being left in solitude in a place I knew nothing of or about.

"I know I said I would stay as long as you needed, but I just remembered that I start working again tomorrow, morning shift."

"Oh, where at?"

"The aquarium," she said, walking towards me again, placing a hand on my chest. My mind and body once again conflicted with one another on how to respond. I suspected that this was minimal contact for her, that she was used to so much more with me; I couldn't bare to see an expression like the one I had seen earlier when she disappeared from my room, Sokka practically dragging her away from me, and so I said nothing. It wasn't fair to her. If she really was my only family, then I was going to give it my all, I was going to do everything I could to remember who this person was, the person that I was, the life we had together. She must have known I would decide this way, she knew my character better than anyone else at the moment.

"Sokka will be here tomorrow morning, alright?"

"OK, what about you?"

"I'll be here as soon as I can," her tone telling me that this was a promise. I nodded, and started to pull away from her as she did the same. She grabbed her purse and jacket from the corner of the room, pulling it onto her narrow shoulders, fixing her hair before walking towards the door. She stopped as she opened it, turning around and looking me in the eye, a soft smile on her lips. I grinned back at her, and watched her walk out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

Here be Zuko, but for only 2600 words. Sorry folks.  
Bold: Zuko.

**5. These Are a Few of My Favorite Things**

**I had received a message early this morning, the ringing of my phone startling me into consciousness; it was my sister.**

"**What do you want?" I asked roughly, bitter with her for interrupting my rest. Of course, that's not to say that I was ever really cordial with Azula.**

"**Good morning, brother," her tone mocking, irritating; her voice shrill and obnoxious.**

"**Azula, get on with it," I wasn't in the mood for her games. **

"**Fine, if you insist. I'm only calling to give you a heads up," she said, her tone some-what resembling that of genuine concern. As her words processed in my mind, I felt my heart stutter a bit, my insides freezing in fear and anticipation.**

"**A heads up?"**

"**Yes."**

"**Alright, I'm listening," that was in no way a lie.**

"**It's about the boy," she said, pausing, knowing what it was doing to my insides, and enjoying every agonizing second of it, "he's awake."**

**I could think of only one thing to ask, "Does he remember anything?"**

"**No."**

**My stomach relaxed, and I no longer felt the need to expunge what little I had in it, "Good." It was essential that he remembered nothing or the entire operation would be blown, my father would be furious, and I would undoubtedly be killed for my failure. The silence on the other end of the line told me that it was safe for me to breath, to sigh in relief before returning back to bed, and wrapping my arms around my wife.**

It was early in the morning when I heard a footsteps right outside my door, a series of three short raps and a longer one at the end; "Come in," I said, the tone and pitch of my voice raising slightly as I finished off my statement, making it sound as if I were asking a question. The person on the other side of the door chuckled. As the door opened, the smell of coffee flooded the room.

"Good morning," Sokka walked cautiously into the room, settling himself down in the chair his sister had the night before, setting two cups and a paper bag down on the table to his right.

"Good morning," I said, smiling at him, noting the similarities between him and Katara. Their hands were the same, only his were thicker, rougher. He smiled the same way that she did, his lips molding into the same form, same shape, thinner and scarred, but clearly from the same family. I found myself wondering what his father looked like; if he possessed the same rugged, severe, and angular features Sokka did, or if Katara's mother was as exotic and beautiful as her daughter.

"I brought you some hot tea and a bagel," he said as he held out one of the steaming cups and the paper bag, "I know you're not supposed to have solid food yet, but I figured you would make an exception." I raised an eyebrow, but took them from his hands anyway, placing the bag on my bedside tray and bringing the tea up to my nose, inhaling the fragrant, floral aroma. It was Jasmine tea; I smiled brightly, eagerly taking a sip, swishing the lovely hot liquid around in my mouth, bathing my dry taste buds.

After Katara had left, the nurse had brought me a small bowl of broth, telling me that this was all I was going to be having for the next couple of days. I had been frightened at first, when the liquid had first touched my tongue; I had tasted nothing. I thought that perhaps I had gone too long without using my taste receptors, that I would never taste anything again, everything would be bland, spice-less. It was good to know that it was simply a case of bad broth and that I could still enjoy my favorite foods and drinks.

I looked up to see him observing me, an amused gleam in his eye, "Thanks, Sokka, this tastes great." He nodded and gave me a smug smile.

"Sokka knows best, sir, I advise you to remember that."

"I think it would be best if I worked on remembering other things first," I said calmly, quietly, barely loud enough for him to hear. His smile faded, his eyes looked down at the floor as he nodded his head in silent agreement. We sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking tea and coffee; I finished mine first.

"I remembered something last night," I observed the swirling patterns of the steam that billowed from the top of his cup. He looked up at me, eyes wide, unbelieving, excited.

"Katara's necklace is what triggered it, my ring, her ring," I tossed my cup into the trash bin in the corner of the room, "when I touched it, my head started to hurt and I saw pictures in my mind."

"Pictures?" His brow rose a bit in confusion, while his eyes gleamed.

"Yeah," I said, shrugging my shoulders, directing my attention out the window at the early morning sun. It was nearing eight.

"Well, what did you see?" His impatience and anxiousness doing nothing but irritating me a little; I almost felt as if I shouldn't be telling him this, as if this was something private, something between his sister and I. I had to remind myself of the importance of the man in front of me, that he was my family, whether I felt it yet or not.

"Water, crystal clear water and a tree," his reaction wasn't the same as Katara had been, "a beautiful willow tree." His brows furrowed, and he shook his head, more so to himself and his own thoughts than to what I myself had said.

"What did Katara say?" The lines of confusion on his face only deepened as I smiled.

"Brilliant!" I said, doing my best impersonation of her tone and expression. Sokka beamed, and I couldn't help but feel content and companionship for him as he reacted to the mention of his beloved little sister. All he wanted was her happiness, that much was clear.

"So, she knew what it meant then?"

"Yes, she knew what it meant."

"Good, because I haven't the slightest clue;" Sokka's laughter was slightly obnoxious, but hearty, genuine, familiar, "Sokka might know best, but that certainly doesn't mean he knows all." At that, I laughed.

I stood up and quickly made my bed, walking over to the drawer off the side of my bed that contained the outfit I had found the day before, setting it on top of the dresser.

"Katara brought those for you a month after the accident," he said, "She believed you would wake up sooner if you had your favorite things around you." He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head, thinking of the irrationality and silliness of his sister.

"My favorite things?"

"That's your favorite shirt; you kind of have a thing for arrows," his tone mirthful. I looked down at the old shirt; it had seen many washes in its day, the arrows were a faded blue color, the yellow undoubtedly dingy. As I ran my fingers over the markings on the sleeves, I couldn't help but smile in contentment.

"Why is that, I've always wondered, just never thought to actually ask you." I turned around, looking at him severely, pursing my lips and quirking an eyebrow.

His face blanched, "Oh, right, sorry." I laughed at his embarrassment, running my fingers over the arrows once more before setting the shirt back down.

"What else is in here?" He pointed to a shelf in the corner of the room, opposite the trashcan and the chair; there was a picture frame and a stuffed animal sitting on top of it. I picked up the toy first: it was a lemur, which like the shirt, was worn out and discolored, one of its yellow-green eyes hung down near its snout. I reached for the picture and brought both objects with me over to my bed, sitting down before taking a closer look.

It was a picture of a large, furry dog and myself. The dog looked massive, its head coming up to my waist, I couldn't tell what breed it was, only that it was definitely uncommon. Its white fur almost blending in with the large stone building in the background, but clashing with the bright orange color of the shirt I wore. If it hadn't been for the patches of brown on the dog's coat, it would have been hard to distinguish between dog and masonry. I looked up at Sokka, silently asking for an explanation.

"Nothing?"

"What do you mean?"

"No flashes, no pictures, nothing?" He asked hesitantly. I frowned, looking back down at the picture and the doll, shaking my head.

"You never told me where you got the lemur, only that you've had it since you were little. You called it 'Momo,'" his tone was sad, let down; he had hoped to have induced an episode of remembrance himself. I felt guilty.

"What about this?" I asked, holding up the photo.

"That's Appa, your dog," the sadness in his voice deepening; "was your dog." My mouth drooped and my shoulders sagged. The boy in the picture adored the fluffy creature by his side, and I felt his pain, I felt the loss, and regretted that I couldn't remember what Appa had been to me.

"What happened to him?" I asked quietly.

"He was old, Aang," he had walked over at some point, and his hand now touched my shoulder.

"When?"

"You had been unconscious for three months, and Katara came home one evening and found him lying on the ground, curled up in a ball on your side of the bed. She was hysterical, didn't know what to do; I had to come and calm her down so that she could think clearly." Sorrow filled my veins; I knew what it looked like to see her in pain.

"What did you do with him?" I asked robotically.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"Once I had talked her through it, she kicked me out, and told me that she could handle the rest. I don't know what she did with Appa," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. I let the subject fade, not knowing how to feel about it, and instead choosing to feel nothing. I put the picture of Appa and Momo on the table next to my clothes and stood up, walking over to the window.

Sokka looked at the clock on the wall, and let out a small sound of annoyance, "I have to get going, I've got to head to work." I nodded and gave him a smile, and looked out the window again.

"Thanks, Sokka."

"Of course, Aang." He walked out the door, leaving me alone to my thoughts. Which didn't last long: only a few minutes later a woman in a white coat walked into the room.

Her hair was dark and lustrous, her skin pale and flawless, her lips reminded me of cherries. She wore glasses, they were tinted, making her appear mysterious, suspicious even; I felt like a little kid, my sense of preservation tingling a little in fear and wariness.

"How are you feeling this morning, Mr. Adlar?" Her voice shocked me, it was very feminine, and oozed confidence.

"I'm pretty good, feeling a lot better than yesterday, that's for sure," I watched her walk across the room and pick up the bag that still held the bagel Sokka had brought for me.

She clicked her tongue and shook her head, "We won't be having any of this." I frowned; I had been looking forward to testing out more of my taste buds after I had showered. She then made her way to the other side of the bed, looking over my clothes, shaking her head in disapproval.

"Do you really need to be getting so dressed up, Mr. Adlar? You're going to be here for a while longer." I couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed at her tone, and the prospect of staying in this room for any longer.

"I suppose not," I said, my tone irate, "Could I get come pants then?" She laughed and walked towards me, circling me, looking me over, scanning every bit of my body; her fingers grazed over the back of my head.

"I'd say that everything is indeed in working order," her breath smelt of chili powder, "if there's anything you need, just have one of the nurses give me a call," she said as she wrote a few numbers down on the whiteboard hanging off the back of the door. She smiled at me, the lopsided angle of her lips unnerving, and walked out of the room.

A few minutes later, a woman in a set of red scrubs walked in and handed me a new set of clothes: a pair of simple cloth pants, and a large cloth t-shirt. I thanked her, and got into the shower, letting the warm water run over my body, along all of the scars.

I toweled off quickly, and dressed even more so. It was eleven; Sokka had mentioned that Katara would arrive around noon. I threw my towel into the waste bin, pulled the chair in front of the window and sat down, waiting impatiently to see a familiar face.


	6. Chapter 6

**I am so sorry it took me so long to update this time, really, truly, sorry. I have had a lot of homework lately. Especially in Economics, Psych, and Painting; oh my goodness, all of the brush work I have been doing.**

**As a result of all of the essays in Economics, I ended up with a serious case of writer's block. =/**

**However, I'm all good to go now, and I apologize for the wait. If it makes it any better, I filled it with fluff in the hopes of obtaining your forgiveness. Next chapter is going to be completely different from this one, so enjoy the mush.**

**6. Homecoming**

It had been a long while since I had been in a car with anyone; I made it a point to always drive alone. I knew it was silly, but I couldn't get past it feeling like anything other than a taboo of sorts, as if driving with someone off to the side of me would automatically amount to tragedy.

Whether it had been a subconscious reaction, or perhaps from what I had told him of what I remembered, Aang paused for a few short seconds before using the tips of his fingers to pull open the car door and sit down in the passenger's seat. He watched from the rearview mirror as I closed the trunk and walked around to the driver's side, taking a seat next to him. I met his eyes reciprocating the anxiety, the worry, and hesitance with my own, contradictorily flashing him a smile. It seemed to work, and he relaxed slightly, leaning back into the seat and releasing a breath that I doubt he had even realized he had been holding.

"Seat belt, young man," I said in my best maternal tone. His laugh disguised the click of the buckle, but did little for the sound of the engine as it roared to life. The both of us tensed up, all humor exhaled through the exhaust pipe. He closed his eyes as I put the car into reverse, pausing before going any further, I reached over and placed my hand over his.

"It will be OK, Aang." His eyes opened slowly, and he pulled his hand out from under mine so that he could give it a proper squeeze before pulling it away and into his lap.

"OK," he said, giving me a small nod. I checked the mirrors, and pulled out of the parking spot, out of the lot, and away from the hospital. We remained silent the entire way back to our apartment; nerves of a new derivative developing in both of our stomachs.

"_Do I have a favorite time of day?" His entire body unconsciously leaned toward mine as he posed his question, his eyes alight with curiosity; his fingers danced over the lines of my palms. This had been the routine for the past twelve days: Sokka would arrive early in the morning and spend a few hours with Aang, and then I would arrive an hour or so later, spending the rest of the day sitting cross legged on his bed, answering questions until it was time for me to head home and get some rest. Suki had even come with Sokka one morning to visit._

"_Yes," was all I answered; I had asked him this once before, the second time we had slept together, and his answer had been automatic: 'I've recently been converted to a morning person; how could a person not be when I get to start my day with the most beautiful woman on the planet right next to me.' His curiosity only doubled when a blush spread across my cheeks._

"_What?" An amused grin quickly reached his lips. I shook my head and looked up from his fingers before answering._

"_You're a morning person," I said with as much nonchalance as I could muster. He rose an eyebrow and half-frowned, but didn't question my response. I watched his lips as they moved; I only allowed myself to do this when I knew that he wasn't aware of where my eyes were directing their attention. I missed his lips on mine, his lips on my neck, my chest, my stomach, my legs; I shivered, glad that he was too lost in his own thoughts to take any real notice._

"_What about you?" He had been increasingly redirecting his questions back at me. Immediately, I thought back to all of the nights he had collapsed on top of me in exhaustion, snuggling up to me, his face buried in the crook of my neck, knowing that within a few minutes he would roll over and splay out across the bed; his arms always seemed to remain open, like even in his sleep they called out to my body. I would scoot over and curl into him, his warmth, his arms encasing me, and I would lay there watching him breathe, deep, even, slow breaths. Watch as the pink faded from his cheeks as his body relaxed and cooled down. My eyes traced over the hair matted to his forehead, his dark eyebrows, his unusually long eyelashes as they themselves rested on a fleshy bed of their own. My fingers would join in on my observation, running down the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, his chin, and further down his neck._

_I smiled ruefully, "I prefer evenings." I laughed as his eyebrow rose again, only much higher this time._

"_Well," was all he managed to get out before the doctor walked in the door; she looked exactly as she had the last time she had visited. Her sanguine lips clashing harshly, eerily with the color of her skin; things that I hadn't noticed about her when she had explained Aang's condition to me only two weeks before. I saw a flash of white break through the red, and recognized it as a smile, realizing that I had yet to verbally acknowledge her presence._

_She didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she didn't particularly care, "I have some good news for you, Mr. Adlar, Ms. Leiwin."_

"_Alright, let's hear it then," Aang's fingers began to move again; the doctor took notice, and a brief frown passed over her lips before she corrected herself._

"_You can go home today," her tone was matter-of-fact. The smile of exuberance that spread across Aang's face made my entire body light up._

"_Finally!" I laughed as he threw up his hands in excitement. The doctor was not amused in the slightest; her hands moved behind her back and she stood stock still in front of us._

"_Yes, well, I'm finishing up your paper work now. You're free to go whenever you please." She waved us away with her hand as she turned away from us and out of the room. Aang had already jumped up from his bed and was blindly shoving anything he thought might be his into the bag of goodies I had brought him a few days before. I shook my head and let out a grin, throwing his shirt at him as I stood up as well. _

We both reached the last step at the same time, and I led the way down the hall to our door, "This is us," I said as we stopped in front of apartment 621. I slid the key into the lock and turned, pushing the door open for him. He gave me a look and made a quick gesture with his chin toward the entrance, his hand reaching above my head to hold the door for me instead. I smiled sheepishly and walked in, waiting for him to follow and close the door behind him before opening a few curtains.

The apartment hadn't changed at all in the past couple of months, I had left it exactly as it had been before we had gone to dinner that evening, although, he didn't know that.

"This is pretty nice," he said genuinely. He made a quick circuit through the living room and the tiny kitchen before walking towards the balcony. A secret smile of elation escaped from my mouth as I followed him out the sliding glass door.

"Oh, wow," he said quietly. The view had been what had sold the apartment for the both of us.

"This was always your favorite place to be," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't doubt that at all," he said with a nod of his head, his eyes scanning over the buildings, the mountains in the distance, the clouds beginning to develop; orange and pink in color as the sun set on the horizon.

"You've always been more comfortable with heights than I could ever be," I said as I noted how far he was leaning over the bar. He seemed to understand what I was hinting at, and he laughed, retreating from the edge a bit. My hand closed around his, and I pulled him back towards the door.

"Come on, we need to show you the rest of the apartment." He didn't protest as I guided him to the bedroom.

"This must be my closet," he said as he stopped in front of a set of open doors on the wall by the bathroom. I nodded and closed the doors of my own. He briefly ran his fingers through the hanging clothes, picking up a shirt that had fallen and hanging it back up before directing his attention to the bathroom door.

"I think that I'm going to take a shower." He was infamous for making a statement sound like a question.

"You don't have to ask for my permission to bathe, you know," I said, laughing. He smiled, an automatic response of his whenever I laughed. He rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him. I stood where I was for a moment, listening to him start the water and rummage through the cupboard for a towel. It was strange to have someone other than myself using the bathroom, strange, surreal, and exciting.

I knocked on the door and waited for a response, "Have you come to ask to join me?" I hesitated, surprised that his usual play-it-safe jesting had taken such a turn, particularly when I had been without his touch for so long; not to mention his being wet and very much naked. I knew what I wanted to say, but decided it would be best to brush it off.

"Not quite," I offered my best laugh, "I was actually going to tell you that I'm going to order the two of us something to eat; there's absolutely nothing in here to make dinner with."

"Oh, alright."

I dialed the number to the only restaurant I knew that delivered in the immediate area and ordered a full vegetarian meal; enough food to feed at least six people. The man on the other end of the phone congratulated me; the last time I had called had been when Aang could still tell everyone all about himself, he assumed that 'my charming companion was doing better,' and I told him he was right.

I sat down on the living room floor, glad that I had vacuumed the night before. As I rested my back on the couch, a flash of blue and black flew over the top of the couch, and a pair of pale feet settled next to me. I looked up and was met with a set of very happy gray eyes.

"I feel so much better," he said with a smile.

"Good, I'm glad." He did look a lot better, as anyone who had spent a very long period of time in one hospital room and had recently been given freedom should. His face took on a more familiar quality; he looked so much more like Aang. His eyes were beginning to suit his face, his attitude. There was only one thing missing: he didn't look at me like I looked at him, like he used to. My eyes faltered, and fell; he didn't seem to notice. He stretched out on the couch, which wasn't quite long enough for his lanky limbs: his feet hung off the arm, one arm draped above his head, while the other hung off the side, his fingertips dangling precariously over my shoulder. His eyes were closed, he was smiling, and I was staring at his lips.

His grin suddenly got wider, and I realized that I had been caught: he peered at me with one eye open. I looked away from him quickly and he chuckled, the husky sound of it causing me to blush. It was different now, being here again with him, everything felt so much more intense, so private, and frustrating. We were both quiet for a few minutes, until Aang broke the silence.

"Katara?" His tone was soft. I looked over my shoulder at him, meeting his gaze.

"Yes?" It was dark now; I could barely make out the contours of his face, taking pride in knowing that I didn't need to: I knew his features better than my own.

"I want to try something."

"OK?"

"I've actually had this idea for a few days now," he added.

"What is it?"

"Could I kiss you?" My heart stopped beating for a split second before jolting back to life. I smiled briefly, before composing myself again.

"Are you sure, Aang?" I began to wonder if he was only doing this for my sake.

"Yes," his fingers found my face, "I think that it might help me remember you," he said firmly. I felt his presence before I could see him; he was close, his face only a foot away from my own. I could picture his expression in my head, his eyebrows would be raised in question, his lip parted, awaiting my answer. The pad of his thumb ran along my cheekbone; I nodded my head slowly, giving him affirmation.

My own hands sought out his skin, finding their way to his chest and his neck as our faces inched closer together, my breathing uneven. It felt as though I was kissing him for the first time all over again, and in a sense, I was.

The tips of our noses touched, and the ticklish sensation it sent down my neck made me grin. His breath fanned over my face, caressing my skin. The soft, warm flesh of his lips skimmed over mine, light as a feather; it was like he was trying, and succeeding, in mimicking the way I was feeling.

He pulled away ever so slightly for a split second before leaning in again, our lips barely touching as the doorbell rang, startling the both of us.

"Talk about bad timing," he said good-humouredly. I nodded in agreement before standing up and walking over to the door. It was our food; I quickly paid the man for our food and his services, thanking him before closing the door, trying not to be too irritated with him for ruining the moment. I turned around and almost spilled the food all over myself, Aang, and the floor. He grabbed the box from my hands and set it on the kitchen counter, his eyes never leaving mine. He moved forward, closing me in between his body and the door; one of his hands reached for my waist, while the other pulled my chin up towards his face.

He smiled at me, and I smiled back, the pressure from his fingers increased as he pulled me into him; there was no hesitation this time, his mouth met mine as eagerly as mine met his. I had forgotten how well our lips fit together, how well they worked together, and how wonderful it felt to be on the receiving end of his lovely lips.

He had backed us into the door, and my legs had found their way around his waist. One of his hands cupped my bottom, while the other ran down my side, to the hem of my shirt. Goosebumps spread all over my body as his fingers made contact with the skin of my stomach, my ribs. A small sound escaped from my throat as the tips of his fingers brushed over my bra, and as he traced the skin along its edges. The sound drove him further on, and I was roughly pushed into the door, forcing me to think more about what we were doing.

"Aang," I managed to say between diligent kisses. He responded with a 'Hmm,' and studiously continued kissing me, his lips trailing down my chin and my neck.

"Aang," I said again, deciding that if he didn't look at me this time, I was just going to forget about what I was going to say and let him have his way with me. I couldn't help but to feel slightly disappointed when a set of dark eyes looked up at me.

"Yes?" He asked. I looked at him and raised an eyebrow, causing him to furrow his. He pulled away and took in the situation; his hand was abruptly pulled out of my shirt, and his eyebrows skyrocketed.

"Whoa," his hand moved from my bottom to my back as I loosened my legs from his waist and settled back down on my feet, "I'm sorry, Katara."

I laughed and shook my head at him, reaching forward and straightening his hair out, leaning into him when I was satisfied, wrapping my arms around him. There was no hesitation, his arms tightened around my form, and he tucked my head under his chin.

"You know, I think I kind of like you," he said softly. I buried my face further into him, trying to fight off the tears with a laugh. I should have seen it coming, I should have known better; those words were so familiar. His body tensed, and then slackened, and suddenly I was holding all of his weight. We collapsed on the floor; immediately I felt fear spread through my veins.

**As a side note: I had iTunes on shuffle while writing this, and I swear to you, as I was finishing up the end of this, the perfect song came on: Sugar on my Tongue – Trick Daddy. Lols. :]**

_**She put that suga' on my tongue, tongue  
Yippy yippy, yum yum  
Goody Goody, gumdrop  
Put me in a tongue-lock  
Did it till my body went numb, numb.**_

_**Sweet sweet, she's my lova'  
She turns me on, like no otha'**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Holy poop! Two chapters in the same twenty-four hour period! Hooray! :D**

**As a reminder: italics are used to indicate a memory/flashback. This one isn't overly long, but it further explores the plot line. **

**7. We Go Way Back**

"**I assure you, father, the boy has no recollection of his life before the event," she said from her position on the ground beside me, "the treatments worked perfectly." Azula and I had been called upon a few hours previously to meet with our father, and we had discussed all of the odds and ends of the business before my least favorite topic was finally brought up.**

**I did not dare look up from the ground, from my knees that were bent under me; the man thought himself a God. The design and layout of headquarters was a testament to that; it was enormous, luxurious, and filled entirely with objects in different tints and shades of red. Gold accented half of every room; massive pillars that lined both sides of the entrance hall were coated with the stuff. It was lavish, expensive, and completely unnecessary, but no one questioned it, no one challenged his conception of himself.**

"**Where is he now?" Azula had inherited his ability to instill fear and intimidate with even the simplest of words, she had inherited nearly all of his abilities and traits. There was no answer, and I looked to my left to find that Azula was no longer there. I looked up at the large form above me, his shadow being all that I could see.**

"**Well?" His tone was full of irritation.**

"**Forgive me, father," I said before answering, "my sources last informed me that he left the facility with the girl, and is now staying with her." He made a sound of distaste.**

"**Why would you have let him return to the place he had lived in before we intervened?" He was getting angry, as was usual when Azula wasn't in the room with us.**

"**I assure you, father, we have him under surveillance," I bowed my head low, directing my eyes toward the wooden floor. I felt like a dog, scared into submission, my tail between my legs.**

"**We set up an audio feed inside while the girl was away," I continued, "the moment they begin discussing his memory returning to him, **_**if**_** that happens, we'll step in. I have men stationed around them at all times; several of the surrounding apartments have our people in them, listening, watching, waiting for orders."**

**This seemed to satisfy him, and he made another sound, one of approval, "Very well, you are dismissed, Zuko." He stood up and walked out of the room, leaving me in the dark, kneeling on the floor in front of his platform. **

"_Happy birthday, Aang," she said excitedly and rather loudly in my ear as she threw her arms around me. I smiled and gave her my thanks, returning her hug, and then continuing my walk home from school with her alongside me. I was only an inch taller than her and still in high school, junior year; she had graduated the year before but continued to meet me in the same spot every day. I was waiting for her to not show one afternoon, where she would call me later telling me that she was sorry, that she had found someone else, someone new, someone male to meet at the movies, or in a nice restaurant._

_She looped her arm around mine, and I smiled, pushing my thoughts aside for the time being. "Shouldn't you be at school, too, ma'am?" She shook her head, her hair twisting and turning along with the motion; she had had such long hair all throughout her junior and senior years until she decided she wanted to cut it all off for graduation. It framed her face, falling in thick chunks all around the middle of her neck and ears._

"_I told you, I don't _need_ to go to college to be happy and successful," she said firmly, "besides, I've already located a few potential places of employment, thank you very much." I laughed and threw up my hands in mock defense._

"_I apologize, dear lady," I said as I tripped over a crack in the pavement, earning another laugh from her, giving her a scowl of embarrassment. She repositioned her arm, and continued walking in the direction of our houses._

"_Oh, I almost forgot," her other hand rummaged through the pocket of her jacket, one that I had lent her a while back and that had slowly, but surely, become her own, "here." I took the piece of paper from her fingers, stopping where we were on the sidewalk to read it. It was a homemade birthday card; she always made me cards for every holiday and special occasion, she never bought any; I loved that. The outside of the card was beautifully decorated, she had cut paper into elegant swirls that appeared as though they were blown across the face of the card. The inside was just as attractive, more whimsical paper patterns blew across both sides. The message inside was written carefully, telling me of how much she cared about me, and how appreciative she was of my friendship, wishing me happy birthday._

_I looked up from the card and smiled at her, opening my arms for a hug, "Well look on the back side, dork," she said, pushing me back with her hand. I flipped over the card, and sure enough, there was more writing. 'I didn't know what to get you, I couldn't find anything that I liked, I couldn't think of anything to make for you, so I decided that my gift to you this year would be truth.' I met her eyes with confusion, while she gave me a smile._

"_Truth?" I asked. She nodded her head, and moved towards me, giving me the hug she had denied moments before. This hug was different than our usual hugs. Normally there was hesitance, like the both of us were afraid and uneasy of such closeness, even more so when she had found out that I had a crush on her; which had been no surprise to anyone but her. She held my body close to hers, her cheek met with mine, her eyelashes tickling my cheekbone; my heart was beating erratically. _

"_Yes," she nodded, the feel of her smooth skin moving against mine causing a smile to boil up from the uneasy and nervous depths of my stomach, "the truth."She pulled back a little, looking me in the eye and smiling; it wasn't a smile I saw often from her, it was her 'I'm nervous' smile, and I immediately went back to the thoughts I had been considering only five minutes before, dread already beginning to weigh down my frame. Why would she want to break my heart on my birthday?_

_It completely shocked me when she leaned in and placed a kiss on my cheek, holding me tightly again, her lips positioned themselves next to my ear, and whispered, "You know, I think I kind of like you." My eyes widened, and I pulled her away from me so that I could see her face. Her cheeks were red; her eyes alight with happiness._

"_Do you really mean that? Truthfully?" I asked in slight disbelief, "Me?" I had hoped and dreamed for years, since I had been adopted into the family that lived one house down from hers, of her returning my feelings. _

"_Yes, you, truthfully," she said softly, adding a nod for extra assurance. I smiled brightly at her, and pulled her into yet another embrace, holding her so tightly to my body that my arms almost wrapped all the way around her and met with my own body again. She laughed cheerfully and threw her arms around my neck._

"_I figured you would like hearing that," she said. _

"_You have no idea."_

Something cool and wet trailed over my forehead and down my cheek, something warm and dry following closely after it, pushing back my hair. I opened my eyes to see the face from my dreams hovering over me. I tried to sit up, but a hand stopped me, gently pushing on my chest, "You need to stay flat," her voice was low, soothing, and I nodded lethargically.

"That was incredible," I said, taking note of the pillow beneath my head. I was still on the floor by the door; I had no idea how long I had been laying here.

"You remembered something, didn't you?" She had a habit of making a question sound like a statement.

"It was so clear, detailed: we were younger, it was my birthday; you made me a great card," I said, and she smiled, knowing what was coming next.

"You kind of like me, huh?" She laughed and ran her hand down my cheek, nodding.

"Only a little bit," her finger trailed down along my nose, "OK, maybe a lot."

"I'm sorry," I said, "that I can't be what I was to you before. It hurts me to know that you're hurting." The guilt had been building inside of me; I was starting to feel something for her, feelings that paled in comparison to her own for me. After kissing her, and experiencing such intense feelings, blacking out, inducing such a wonderful memory, those feelings were growing deeper, my guilt along with it.

"Don't be, Aang, it's not your fault." I knew she was right, but also that she couldn't deter me.

My head was throbbing painfully and my stomach rumbled loudly. "I think that it'd probably be a good idea for us to eat now." I laughed, wincing when pain shot through my skull, my hands automatically moving to the spot at its base. She gave me an empathetic look before standing up and helping me to my feet slowly. My bladder felt like it was going to explode; all of the liquid in my body seemed to have dropped to one point as I rose to my feet.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom first," I said and walked as quickly as I could on my slightly unsteady limbs. I heard her open the boxes of food, and grab glassware, when she closed the door on the microwave and the sound of mechanical whirring as the food rotated, heating up, before I closed the door.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror, running my fingers over my face, stretching at my skin; I had bags under my eyes, and I looked much more pale than I would normally appear. My pupils were huge, even under the right light of the vanity light. My fingers found the back of my skull once more, the ever-prominent lump pulsing beneath them.

I flushed and washed my hands, splashing cold water on my face a few times before drying off, looking in the mirror at my appearance again; my eyes seemed darker, my head hurt more. I had yet to really look over my scars: the long angry mark that ran down the far side of my face, a deep gash just below my eyebrow, the starburst of white flesh that marred the line of my collar bone. There had been no mirror in the hospital room, I hadn't gotten to see all of myself, at least not the other half of me. I pulled my shirt over my head and turned away from the mirror, looking back over my shoulder at my reflection.

A thick blue arrow ran down the length of my spine, starting at the base of my skull; stemming from the source of my pain, and branching down past my pants line. An ugly, horrendous scar marred its path, cutting through its middle and wrapping around my ribs, a feeling of intense unease tore through my system, and I turned my head away, collecting myself before looking again. It looked like I had been cut and burnt, my body badly abused; I wondered if Katara had seen this scar yet, surely she had seen all of the others.

The most intense wave of pain I had ever felt washed over me, consuming all of my abilities to think clearly; a loud crashing sound broke through the bathroom door, glass shattering, a woman's voice calling for me. All of the sounds around me were muffled, I didn't understand. I felt a rough tug at my shoulders, and felt the ground as it slid beneath me, before losing hold of everything but my name.


	8. Chapter 8

**Alright, so this one might be a little tricky to understand, it switches points of view, from Katara to Aang, and then back to Katara. I do that a lot, and I apologize; I find that stories tend to be more interesting that way. You get further insight into the characters, and the plot/settings in general. It prevents dullness, as well.**

**PLEASE NOTE: The words in bold indicate Aang's p.o.v.**

**No Sokka in this one either, but have no fear; I'll bring him back in soon. :]**

**8. Fun**

"Aang!" I called out as loudly as I could, my voice beginning to crack from over-use. My knuckles were bruised and bleeding from the pounding they were taking; I was trying to break free, punching the walls of the dark room I had been tossed into.

I had managed to remain conscious until the SUV they had thrown Aang and I into made a turn at the edge of a wooded area, where one of the hulking men had bashed the side of my skull with the back of the blade he held in his hand. I woke up in the dark, my face sticky with blood, pasted to the cold cement floor. The only source of light being a few thin slits in what appeared to be a door. The only thing I was concerned with was where Aang was; he certainly wasn't in the room with me, if he were, then he was either dead, or deaf.

"Aang!" I screamed through the cracks in the door, only to be met with a loud, resonating thud on the other side.

"Shut it!" A deep and ominous voice called out from the other side, the room going completely dark as the owner of the voice's massive form stood in front of the entrance, "He can't hear you." The sound of another presence in the room was given away when the other person cursed under their breath.

"Why are you giving her any information on the boy?" The voice asked irately. Light flooded back into my cell as the man moved, his laugh fading as he walked away.

"What does that even tell her? That he's alive? So what? I didn't say how alive he was, just that he wasn't dead." I could only assume that one of them had smacked the other with the sound that echoed around my ears.

"I don't give a shit, you know what our orders are; not another Goddamn word about it or so help me," this man held the authority in the room, that much was clear, although how much more than his companion, I had no idea. The deeper voice grunted, and then all went silent.

I listened for more for what felt like at least an hour, hearing nothing, I let myself collapse to the ground, curling up into a ball, and letting my mind unravel. I thought of all of the things whoever these people were could be doing to Aang, who was already in such a delicate state, of all the things that these people would do to me. My mind working a million miles per hour, panicking, contemplating, confused, stressed, planning; my body remained motionless. My mind went blank as I slipped into unconsciousness.

I didn't know how much time I had spent with my eyes closed, vulnerable, but when I opened them again, there were new voices outside the door. "Please stand back ma'am," an obnoxious and nasally voice penetrating my ears, followed by the jangle of keys, and the turning of a lock. The door swung open, and light poured into my cell, burning my eyes momentarily, worsening when someone flipped on a light switch.

"Leave, now," another voice spoke, a more feminine one. I looked up from the floor and recoiled at the sight of the person in front of me: it was the woman from the hospital. The guards hesitated, pausing at the doorframe.

"Now," she spoke venomously, and the guards obeyed immediately, the door slamming loudly behind her. She looked at me and smiled wickedly; I was thoroughly frightened by this woman and her blood-red lips, even more so now that I could see the true shape and color of her eyes; everything about her emitted intimidation.

"Surprised to see me Ms. Leiwin?" she asked, humor in her voice. I scowled at her, pursing my lips shut, denying her the satisfaction of an answer. She clucked her tongue and shook her head as she walked closer to me.

"Don't be rude," she said, "that's hardly fair, being a guest here and all." A crude laugh passed through her lips, as her hand reached forward and grabbed a few locks of my hair. I pulled swiftly away from her, internally cringing as her fingers ripped through the tangled state my hair was in.

"We need to get you cleaned up," her tone acidic, her eyes furious. She walked swiftly toward the door and yanked it open, calling out for the guards who burst into the room, grabbing my arms and legs roughly, carrying me out of the room. I began twisting, turning, flailing my limbs as best I could to free myself of their grip. I managed to free one leg, landing a swift kick to the smaller guard's jaw, causing the both of them to drop my limbs. I scrambled to my feet and began running, my feet clumsily making contact with the ground, tripping over themselves, making it only a few yards before I was tackled none-too-gently to the ground. Blood filled my mouth and I was sure I had bitten through my tongue.

This time the guards grabbed my arms from behind my back, lifting me up with my face angled to the ground; my shoulders feeling as though they were going to pop out of their sockets at any moment. After another turn down a long, bright corridor, they threw me head first into a new room, only this time, I was slightly more prepared for impact. My hands saved my face from meeting with porcelain.

The woman was already there waiting, sitting comfortable in a plush armchair in the corner, two other people standing on either side of her, both holding bags in their hands. The corner of her lips rose as she met my eyes, giving a nod in my direction; the two people astride her moved towards me.

"Don't fight this, Katara," she said, her smile increasing in size, "it's a simple procedure really; if you're going to be here, you'll need to be clean. I can't risk getting your blood on the carpets."

"What makes you think I'm going to do that?" I asked, furious. I rose to my feet, my hands balling into fists, and I suddenly began to remember all of the years of martial arts courses I had taken during middle and high school. My temper rose further as she laughed.

"Have you forgotten about someone?" My face fell, my arms slackened; she had me. Even if I had no way of actually knowing what had happened to him, I could not risk his safety. I fell to my knees and held out my arms. The woman's servants pulled my clothes off my body and pushed a series of buttons on the wall behind me. Jets of hot water attacked me from all sides, stinging and searing my skin, which was slowly turning red. The water abruptly stopped flowing and was replaced with hot hair. A few flimsy pieces of cloth material were pulled onto my body before the servants backed away and took their places off to the side of the woman once more.

"I don't like her hair," she said in a monotone voice. I raised an eyebrow at her. She looked up at the man to her left and pursed her lips. In turn, he reached into his bag and pulled out a pair of scissors, placing them in her open hand. She stood and walked over to me, circling me, running her fingers through my hair, pulling a large amount of it straight out from my head, and snipped. A large chunk of my hair fell to the ground, the newly exposed skin around my neck opposing the cold air of the room.

"Don't ever pull away from me, Ms. Leiwin."

Large piles of my hair covered the floor by the time she had finished with her fun, "Much better," she said satisfactorily, handing the scissors back to the man before walking to the door and calling out for the guards again. I could feel the jagged, unevenness of my hair; my bangs now hung in my eyes. This woman was clearly insane, but I continued to say nothing.

I co-operated with the men this time, allowing them to lead me whereever it was that I was supposed to be going. As we took a turn down another hallway, the entire design of the building changed; the architecture immediately became more elaborate, the walls were now red rather than gray. The hall opened up into a dimly lit room, where I could see a man sitting up on a platform, above everything else in the room. The woman passed us and strode right up to the man, kneeling before him and saying something too low for me to hear.

In the corner of the room was another person, a man, who resembled the maniacal woman only a few feet in of him. Opposite this man, sitting in a chair, bound by his hands and feet was Aang.

**My head throbbed, and my back ached; I was met with resistance when I tried to pull my hand up to my head and I opened my eyes. I was sitting in a chair, my hands and feet tied to its arms and legs. The room around me was poorly lit, with the exception of a few bright lights directly in front of me. There was someone else in the room, above me, looking down at me with a smile on his lips; I could see nothing of the man but his mouth.**

**Fear seized me, as everything came flooding back to me: the pain, the noises, her calling my name, I had not dreamt it. **

"**What do you want?" I called out as viciously as I could manage. The man laughed and stood, stepping forward and out of the light; he looked eerily familiar.**

"**I don't believe you're in any position to be asking questions, Mr. Adlar." He now stood only a foot in front of me, his arms neatly folded behind his back. I sneered at him, trying my best to escape from the bindings, but only succeeding in chaffing my skin. **

"**Where is she?" I asked. His brow rose slightly.**

"**You remember her?" He asked, his tone indignant. I was slightly taken aback, but quickly pushed my shock aside.**

"**That's none of your business! Now where is she, and what do you want?" Anger consumed his features momentarily, and goose bumps rose on my arms; he was unstable, dangerous.**

"**On the contrary, it is entirely my business."**

**I shook my head at him, furrowing my brows in confusion, "I don't understand."**

"**This is all about business," he said promptly, walking around my form, behind me, where I couldn't see him. Before he could explain further, a man walked into the room. He was tall and resembled the other man in the room. The man got down on his knees before speaking.**

"**The girl is being taken care of, father."**

"**I told you that I didn't want to see you in my sight again, Zuko," irritation and ferocity taking over his voice and expression. The boy lowered his head further.**

"**I beg your forgiveness, father," his face made contact with the ground. The other, more menacing man gave no reply, and instead, continued his circuit around me.**

"**You see, Mr. Adlar, I was promised, ensured by my son that you would have no recollection of your life before your little 'accident,'" he had stopped in front of his son, lifting his chin with the toe of his shoe, "and yet, here we are." He moved back towards me, dropping his son's chin so abruptly that the sound of his chin hitting the floor echoed throughout the room.**

**The man spoke up, lifting his face from the floor, "I had been promised results myself. It was a failure in technology, father," he pleaded. **_**A failure in technology?**_** Things were beginning to piece together in my head.**

"**Zuko, my son," he let out a cruel laugh, "you are so like your uncle; always finding someone else to blame." He took a seat in his chair on the platform above the both of us.**

"**No matter, the situation has been amended." His son stood, his face full of questions, reflecting the expression on my own.**

"**Move the boy, Zuko, your better half will arrive momentarily," he said with a wave of his hand. I was dragged from the center of the room off to the side. My head continued to throb, spreading down my back, through to my finger-tips; I could feel the lump on the back of my skull now.**

**All was quiet in the room, which quickly became dangerous: my mind began to falter, thinking of Katara and what they might be doing to her.**

**The sound of footsteps entered the room, and the all-too-familiar face of my doctor strolled casually into the room, the shock of seeing her here only lasting until Katara came into view. She looked like she had been handled a little roughly, I frowned at what had been done to her hair, and the large, fully formed bruise that marked almost an entire half of her face. **

**When her eyes met mine, I saw immense relief, fear, and trepidation. It angered me when the two men dressed in black and red pushed her roughly to the ground in front of me; a low rumble erupting from my chest.**

I paid no mind to the pain that shot through my leg as my knee made contact with the wood floor, instead focusing all of my energy into making my way over to Aang. A small sob escaped from my throat as I reached him, as I threw myself into him, my arms wrapping around his neck, "Did they hurt you?" he whispered in my ear, doing his best to hug me with his face and neck. I didn't respond, knowing he wouldn't believe me if I were to say 'no' and that it would only upset him more if I said 'yes.'

I was abruptly pulled away from him, "As much as I hate to ruin this touching moment, we have pressing matters to attend to," said the woman, her fingernails dug into my skin.

"Just get on with it," Aang said bluntly, seething.

"Azula, I think it's time you tell them what happened that night," said the man who sat above everyone in the room, a wicked smile plastered on his lips. The girls own lips reciprocating his as she sat down on the edge of the dais.

"I do believe you're right, father."


	9. Chapter 9

**Here comes Toph. :] **

**This chapter starts off a little strange, and it might confuse you a bit at first. Strike that, it bounces all over the place, and might confuse you quite a bit, just read it over again if that happens and it will make complete sense. I promise. **

**9.** **Truth**

Toph, Suki, and I ran up the long flight of stairs at a rate which would normally be impossible under any other circumstance. It had been only minutes ago that we had received the anonymous phone call, telling us that our friends had been returned to us, and had been dumped where they had initially been found.

_After the second day had gone by with no word from either Katara or Aang, I had decided it would be best that I stop by to see that everything was alright, that Aang had made the transition from hospital to apartment in one emotional piece. The first thing I noticed was that the door wasn't shut all the way, and then that the deadbolt on the frame had been yanked from the wall; my hair had stood on end, immediately fearing the worst._

_My discomfort had only continued to grow as I made my way into the kitchen: food was strewn everywhere, the microwave door open and hanging out of the wall by its cord, a few broken plates were scattered across the linoleum, blood mixing with the various leavings. My legs sped up under me as I made a quick route through the rest of the house, the only other part that had been messed with being the bathroom; the mirror above the sink had been cracked and the sink itself seemed to sag a bit._

_I had pulled out my phone and immediately dialed the one person who I felt would understand what I was feeling, who had been there the day of the accident, and who had 'seen' what I had seen._

"_Sokka, long time no talk."_

"_Toph, I need you here as soon as possible."_

"_What's wrong?"_

"_I think we were right."_

"_I'll be there in a few hours."_

I busted through the door, not even bothering to wait for Suki to help Toph up the last step, or to notice the rough shrugging of her shoulders as she pushed Suki's hands away from her, and continued running down the hallway on her own.

I ran right past them at first, running straight into the bedroom, hoping I would find them lying in bed, startled by my intrusion. I hoped for a split second that perhaps this had all been a nightmare; I reigned in my thoughts as quickly as they had developed. They were both sprawled out on the floor in front of the balcony, like they had actually been dropped in through the doors.

"Katara?" My hands reached for her face, tenderly brushing over the dark angry marks that covered her face. Her clothing was translucent, and wet, confirming my suspicions; it was pouring outside, and it was no help to either of us having the doors spread open, water falling into the apartment in copious amounts, drenching not only the carpet but the people within. Toph and Suki landed on the other side of me, trying to coax Aang awake, checking him over as well. He was dressed just as poorly: thin, wet, white cotton clinging to his skin. His scars seemed to stand out over every other feature in the room.

"What happened to them?" Suki whispered loud enough for only the three of us to hear. I shook my head and continued rubbing my sister's face, anger was beginning to build inside me, bubbling, and boiling at my very core. Toph tossed a blanket over the both of them and closed the doors.

"Katara, can you hear me?" Her eyelids fluttered at the sound of her name and slowly opened meeting my eyes with first alarm and then relief; I pulled her to me, embracing her, perhaps a little too roughly; a pitiful sound escaped from her lips. I sat her down gently, cradling her head in my hand until her hair made contact with the carpet.

"Aang?" she croaked, asking more with her eyes than with her voice.

"He's right here, Katara, he's OK," Suki's voice was soothing and kind, as it almost always was. Katara turned her head in the direction of her voice, catching sight of Aang and smiling; all of us watched as her hand moved beneath the blanket, finding his without any trouble. His eyes opened automatically, his head turning towards her, a brilliant smile lighting up his face, the gray in his eyes appearing almost silver. The way they looked at each other made me feel as if I should turn and look away, I felt intrusive, invasive, which contradicted the intense feelings of euphoria I felt as I realized I recognized that look.

Toph looked over in my direction as I gasped, my eyes met Suki's and she smiled, the tips of her fingers touching mine. He remembered everything, he was Katara's Aang once more, as if he had ever been anything less. Not only that, but I had my best friend back; my excitement could not contain itself, and I reached forward, embracing Aang, startling him at first. My happiness reached its peak as he tightened his grip, patting me on the back.

As he pulled away from our hug, his smile seemed to fall, his expression slackening into a completely different emotion: anger, irritation, determination, fear. "We need to leave, now," his eyes bore into mine and I didn't dare question his motives.

He turned to look at Katara, who had clearly taken most of the physical abuse, she lay limp on the floor, her eyes being the only part of her that seemed capable of moving. The tips of his fingers ran along her cheek and over her lips, his own set in a frown as they met gently with hers. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his words soft; small tender air kisses to sooth the bruises. She caught his hand against her face, leaning into it, inhaling, kissing the tip of his thumb and shaking her head at him.

"Suki, I need you to grab whatever you can manage to find in here for food," his eyes were still linked with my sister's. She nodded silently, running off into the small kitchen and set to work rummaging through the cabinets.

"Toph, could you gather up some blankets?" Although she was blind, she had been able to work out a way of seeing unlike anything anyone before her had done; she had learned to use the vibrations she picked up through her ears and the earth, the air, around her as her body interacted with the environment, turning them into a sonar of sorts; allowing for her to pick up on rough outlines. She was truly one of a kind. She too nodded her head and took off down the hall and set to work on the closet, pulling out all kinds of materials.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Find anything else you can think to look for: first aid, weapons; we're going to need it," he said as he struggled to his feet, looping his arms under Katara and pulling her up with him.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to get her out of these wet clothes," he said over his shoulder, walking back into the bedroom. I nodded and set to work.

↔↔⃝↔↔

I held her close to me as I walked down the hallway, trying both to keep her warm, and to reassure myself that she was in fact in my arms, safe, and away from them. Her eyelashes fell lazily over her cheeks; they deserved their rest, she had been so strong.

"_Stop this! Look at what it's doing to him!" she screamed, her voice cracking, through the haze, the pain, I could hear her dragging herself across the floor in vain, as she smacked and kicked the arms of her captor. _

_My mind was being bombarded with images of my past, the pain was unbearable. My mind felt solid, leaden, weighted down; I could hear my arms and limbs smacking down on the wooden floor, the sounds of my own screams as the cruel woman continued telling her story in an ever increasingly loud voice. It was almost as if she were inside my mind, saying what she had to for the personal benefit of my brain cells, my neurons and dendrites._

"_We had been watching you all night, as you ordered your dinners: a large platter of steamed vegetables for you, Aang, and a quaint little fruit salad for you, Katara; you fed her the first bite: a strawberry if I'm not mistaken." I could hear the laughter hidden behind her words, she was enjoying herself. _

_Flashes of that moment overcame my vision; the way the pink juices had stained her perfect lips, the seed that had escaped from the corner of her mouth, the way her lips had tasted when I stole a quick kiss, swiping a grape from off her plate._

_A loud shriek field the room; my head throbbed. "Please!" Katara's voice broke through the noise._

"_After you finished eating, you asked her to dance; a charming piano ballad." _

_Her sweet, melodious laughter comparable to the notes resonating from the piano keys, singing her own song in my ears, my heart full of happiness; my head seething. Her warm, solid, sweet smelling body pressed against my own as we moved in perfect unison with the music._

_The vile woman's voice died off, and I was in a tux, she was in a form-fitting blue dress, a color that matched her eyes. I was younger, scrawnier; she was smaller, too, but just as beautiful. We twirled around in awkward circles, my face burning, her face buried in my neck; dozens of other couples our age surrounded us. She had asked me to go to her Senior Prom with her; she had told me that there was no one else she would rather go with than her best friend. _

_I was sure my hands were berating my skull, my face, the ground; breaking under the force at which I was slamming them into the ground._

"_The moonlit stroll through the park was a very nice touch, I must say, Aang."_

_The look on her face as she took in my question flashed before my eyes, the excitement she had tried to contain long enough to maintain her usual repartee spirit, failing miserably._

_Suddenly we were both young again, metal wires lined her teeth as she offered me a cheesy smile. It was after the first day of school, she had just started 8__th__ grade; my first day of 6__th__ grade had gone horridly awry. I had known no one, I had been picked on all day for being the new kid; as soon as the bell had rung, I ran off, eventually stopping and throwing my back pack down on the cobbled stone of an old white bridge; I hadn't even noticed that I wasn't alone. That smile was etched permanently into my heart the moment she gave it to me; I would love her for the rest of my life. Our parents came looking for us, it was way past our dinner times; I had been too caught up in her stories, stories of how she had come to find this bridge with her mother when she was younger, how she came here every day to say hello._

"_I beg you! No more! Stop!" She was undoubtedly in tears; a new type of pain ripping through my system. A series of slapping noises, loud grunts, and a cold touch to my aching head, temporarily soothed my over-active brain, only to be ripped away just as fast, a scream of ferocity, a curse, and the sound of a low impact echoed through my ears. A soft and pitiful whimpering sound was followed by a feral laugh. _

"_Continue, Daughter," a rough, deep, and commanding voice invaded my ear drums. The sound of a door slamming loudly in some other part of the room overtook every other noise and prompted the voice to speak again._

"_Don't worry, Azula, he'll pay for his actions later. Go on." The sound of his voice bringing on an entirely different set of memories; the pain in my head spread out to all of my limbs, my right side burning exponentially more so than the other. Red. Everything was a shade of red, bright red lights glaring evilly down into my eyes, darker red shapes moved into my line of sight, flipping me over. Red squares; the red was my blood, the smell of rust, salt, of life, of death, permeated my nostrils._

"_Get on with it." The same voice, dark, deep, authoritative; light pressure begins building in the back of my skull. Intensity. Pressure. Pain. Pressure. My fists connects with the back of my skull, once, twice, three times; her sweet voice is loud in my ear, the man's bellows in the other. My fingers clench down and around something; warmth spreads over my fingers, the pain ceases; the screaming, kicking, and pounding stops._

_My eyes open, and in my hands rests a crushed piece of metal. As soon as her eyes made contact with mine, she snapped. She was no longer flailing and blindly throwing punches, she was aiming to kill, she was going for blood; I had taught her how._

I pulled the sticky pieces of damp cloth carefully from her body, wrapping her back up in the blanket while I found her a set of warm, dry clothes to replace them with. I dressed her before changing myself. She had fallen asleep, and I would let her.

I rummaged through the drawer I knew she kept our emergency money in and grabbed all of what was there; which wasn't as much as I would have liked for there to have been. Her wallet had been thrown carelessly on the dresser alongside mine; I grabbed both of those. My old jacket, her favorite, hung off the bedpost along with an old messenger bag; I stuffed the jacket and our wallets into it, grabbing an extra set of clothes for the both of us before slinging the bag over my shoulder, doing a quick scan of the room to think of anything else we might need.

My head had begun bleeding again, I could feel it beginning to trickle down the back of my neck. I reached for a towel on the floor and wrapped it around my shoulders.

"We're all ready out here, Aang," called Sokka from the doorframe. I nodded, and picked Katara up off the bed, cradling her frame to my body, guiding the both of us out of the bedroom carefully.

Suki had managed to find quite a bit of canned goods, as well as some dried fruits and crackers; more than I had expected. Toph and Sokka both had turned up some useful objects as well: a comforter, a few sheets, a first aid kit, a small toolbox, a sewing kit, a box of matches, and a hatchet. No gun; It would have to do.

I gave each one of them a severe look, one of urgency, of gratitude, trust, "Let's go."


	10. Chapter 10

If you like what you're reading, tell me please!

This chapter is all about Zuko, and is pretty short as a result.

**10. My fault**

I had gone to the apartment first, hoping that I would find them there; it had only been a few hours. My heart sank when I saw that the door had been left wide open, I dare not pass the door frame. I stood there, holding my breath, taking in all of the damage that had been done to their home in the past couple of days: nearly everything these people had owned had been violated in some manner. I could see traces of blood streaked along the fibers of the carpet, a trail leading to where I stood; a voice broke me from my reverie, I jumped a few inches into the air.

"You looking for Mr. Adlar?" An elderly woman had her head peeking from her apartment door a couple of rooms down.

"Yes, ma'am." She frowned in response, shaking her head.

"You just missed them. They were in a big hurry, had a couple of bags with them." Her eyes looked me over, scrutinizing everything about my appearance.

"Oh, that's a shame," was all I could think to say. I started to walk back towards the stair well, satisfied with what I had been told; they were smart, they were making a run for it. The girl had really done a number on my sister, if they found her, any of them, they were as good as dead.

_One of the guards holding the distraught girl rose his fist in the air, ready to strike out at her if she spoke out again; my sister looked on with a smirk on her lips. The boy writhed in pain on the floor in front of me, the sounds that escaped his lips sent bile up to the back of my throat; this was not what was supposed to happen, my father had said nothing about torture._

_Azula continued talking, walking back in forth, pacing in front of the boy's face, her shoes a mere inch from stepping on his nose. "The moonlit stroll through the park was a very nice touch, I must say, Aang." Pitiful, gut wrenching noises gurgled from his lips in response, his eyes tensed insurmountably, his body curled into itself. I should say something, I should stop this._

"_I beg you! No more! Stop!" I winced, bracing myself for impact, knowing that she was going to be berated; I had underestimated her tenacity. She lashed out at the men holding her arms, slapping, scratching at their faces, managing to get free of their grasps, but only long enough to touch the boys face for a fleeting second before being thrown several feet backwards. Several men surrounded her, holding her down, another punched her in the face. The sound making me feel more nauseous; it was like watching a bunch of feral children desecrate a porcelain doll; her delicate features ballooned, her skin had cracked on the bridge of her nose, blood ran down the side of her face._

_Azula stood over her, her smug smile being quickly expunged by a large wad of spit from the girl; her bravery continued to amaze me. The boy's face wore a small smile of his own and I questioned his consciousness momentarily. _

_Azula attacked the girl, kicking her ribs several times, cursing her form, her existence, before containing herself, and turning away. The girl cried out in pain, gasped for air; I was sure her ribs had been broken. When her eyes looked over at the sorry form of the boy in front of me, my resolve cracked; the deplorable, hopeless reflecting through her sad, mellow, dark blue orbs drove me out of the room. I slammed the door behind me, ignoring my father's threatening words._

_I made it to the end of the hall way before my guilt and curiosity got the better of me; I made a left, opening the door to the surveillance room, turning every monitor over to the main chamber. I watched as the boy reached for the back of his head; everyone else in the room had stopped moving, stopped struggling. He held his hand out in front of him, his fingertips bloody, a small, barely recognizable piece of metal resting in the palm of his hand: the tiny microchip I had had implanted in his flesh, hardwired to his brain, and set to induce intense chemical reactions throughout his entire body the moment he did something my father didn't particularly like. I was responsible for all of this._

_The fiery woman leapt to her feet, catching the men behind her entirely off guard; she was already on top of Azula before they had even had time to process what had happened. She was holding nothing back, all of the energy, the anger, the hate she had pent up inside of her poured into her blows; blood erupted from my sister's nose, her eyebrow, her lip; her face was being tenderized, no one made a move to stop it. I almost laughed._

_A figure came into view, running in from the corner of the room, pulling the girl off of Azula, yelling at her, telling her to run, placing a key into her scarlet hands. He had barely enough time to help the boy to his feet before my father laid him flat._

My uncle had been the figure, he had rescued the two of them, distracting my father long enough for them to make a run for it. I had done the same, promising myself that I would honor my uncle's actions, and help the family that I had hurt irreparably.

"Was there something you needed from them?" I shook away the shameful thoughts in my head and looked her in the eyes. They were kind, wise.

"No," my tone was sure, firm, "they need something from me, actually. I have to fix something, something I broke, something that I took from them." She considered this for a few seconds, her eyes narrowing.

"I can think of only one place they might have gone to," she said quickly, "Katara's father lives a couple hundred miles south of here, s'names Hakoda. I can't help you with anything else; good luck." She shut the door before I could thank her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Ok, so I told you guys that this chapter would be longer, and it is. I told you that it would have more fluff, and it does, kind of. **

**I threw in some more upbeat moments, to relieve you of all of the angst for at least one whole chapter.**

**11. Illusions **

"Did they actually give you any real indication as to why they're doing this to you?" Hakoda spoke quietly, just barely loud enough for me to hear from across the room. Katara was asleep, curled up on the couch, her head resting in my lap; my fingers stroking the skin of her arm in abstract patterns. Sokka had fallen asleep in the arm chair to the right of his father, Toph on the ground by his feet. Suki had returned home to her parents; it had taken Sokka getting down on his knees and begging for her to do so, trying to convince her she was unsafe with the three of us; she had no reason to be involved. She hadn't been present when the accident had taken place.

"No, they didn't quite get that far," I said solemnly. I wanted nothing more than to know what we had done to receive such obtrusive behavior from people we had no relations with, "Iroh intervened." I owed a lot to the mysterious man who had come to our aid, who had forced Katara away from her attack on our captor. All I had managed to get from him had been his name.

"_Get up, boy!"The man screamed, frantically yanking, tugging at my arms. My brain was still trying to catch up to everything that had happened, the adrenaline that had been kept at bay by the hazy state the chip had left me in, kicking in a little more slowly than I would have liked._

"_Now!" He urged, and I obeyed, pushing myself off of the ground, grabbing a hold of Katara's hand turning to run; it didn't matter which way. The elderly man was right behind me, shoving something into my hand, yelling something in my ear, pointing towards one of the many doors that lined the walls of the cavernous room. _

"_Tell the man outside that Iroh sent you," he said, barely able to finish articulating his words before the large, dark, ominous man pinned him to the ground, slamming his face into the wooden floorboards._

"_I'm sorry." He managed to squeeze out of his lips between the narrow space allowed to him between flesh and floor. I nodded, turned, and ran for the door he had indicated._

"Iroh?"

"Yes, he's one of the good guys," I said, offering a tiny smile; a pitiful attempt at assurance. Hakoda nodded, his gaze turning back toward his daughter's face, his eyes sad, defeated. I felt the same way; leaving our home made the situation no better; we were dogs, beaten, running with our tails between our legs. At the very least, Katara had gotten a good mauling in before-hand.

"She was so brave, Hakoda," I said, my fingers settling on her waist, my eyes meeting his. He smiled.

"I don't doubt it." The both of us were silent for a few minutes, lost in our thoughts.

"She kicked some ass," I added as an afterthought. Hakoda chuckled, grinning proudly at his daughter.

"I only wish she hadn't had to," He murmured, getting to his feet and stretching. I nodded, my face void of emotion.

_She threw a punch at the pillow I held in front of my chest, causing my bodyweight to shift to the heels of my feet. She rose an eyebrow in question, seeking approval, criticism, a compliment. I smiled at her, letting the pillow fall to the ground._

"_That was good, very good, but it would have been better had you rotated your hips a bit more," I said as I stood in front of her, placing one hand on her hip and the other on her shoulder, guiding her body in the motions, rotating her towards me, and then away; "like this." _

"_Got it?" I asked after repeating the action a few more times; she nodded and I did the same, backing away and picking up the pillow, bringing it back up to my chest._

_She pulled back her arm, her hips and shoulders rotating, giving her fist more momentum; I staggered backwards a few inches when she made contact with the cushion. She smirked, knowing that she had done well; I laughed and pulled her into a hug, "Very nice, grasshopper."_

"_Yeah," she sniffed, "I know." I shook my head at her, a smile still on my lips._

"_Let's just hope that you never have to use any of this," my words were serious, critical. She nodded, and pulled away from my arms, taking a fighting stance._

"_Just because I can punch now, doesn't mean you're done," she said brusquely. I cleared my throat, raising both eyebrows expectantly. She rolled her eyes and laughed._

"_Master." _

_I smiled smugly, patting the top of her head before positioning my body as she had hers._

"Aang?" Hakoda questioned, his voice full of concern, reeling me back into the present. I looked up at him, cocking my head a bit to show that he had my attention. A questioning look passed over his features for a brief second, disappearing just as quickly; through all of the years I'd known him, he'd never been one to ask too many questions.

"Are you going to sleep?" The way he asked indicating that he already knew the answer. I shook my head at him, looking down at Katara, knowing that that would be all the answer he would need. He nodded his head, reaching over the arm of the couch and placing a hand on her foot.

"I'll be in the study if you need me," with that he walked off; he kept all of his pictures in that room, pictures of Kya; the woman who I had never had the chance to meet, the woman who inspired my own.

I let my head fall back onto the back of the couch, wincing as the tender laceration met with the rough fabric, my fingers tensing in the softer fabric of Katara's sweatshirt; she stirred, rolling over, her face now upright, her cheek resting on my abdomen. The pad of my thumb stroking her temple, mindful of the bruises; my lips placing a light kiss on her forehead; she curled further into my body.

I relaxed my head once more, careful of the wound on the back of my skull this time. I settled myself into the couch, her warmth and security; glad that it felt as wonderful and wholly familiar as it did, and fixated my eyes on the front door.

↔↔⃝↔↔

The sun had still yet to rise when I opened my eyes; my limbs were stiff, sore, begging to be stretched out; I moved to do so, pausing when I remembered that I wasn't alone on the couch. I turned my head, and was met with a sleepy smile, and a set of tired gray eyes. He said nothing; he didn't have to, nor did I. His head rolled over and rested against the arm of the couch; he would sleep now that he was sure I was OK; I felt guilty for having kept him waiting.

I rose quietly, unsteadily to my feet; my breath catching when I raised my arms above my head, pain tingled down my spine, stemming from my ribs; this was surely what it felt like to be ran over by a truck.

I made my way to the bathroom, in need of a shower, and an assessment of my wounds; I would be sure to do the same for Aang when he had rested himself.

The face in the mirror shocked me; it looked almost nothing like my own. It was grotesquely swollen and discolored, the choppy, ratted hair that hung a little past my ears in thick, uneven chunks giving me a slightly crazed look. I laughed at what I must have looked like to Azula, my face hovering over hers, my fists pounding into her flesh, eyes alight with fury, hatred. My laughter quickly faded when my thoughts focused on what had finally caused me to snap.

That insignificant little piece of metal, smeared in blood, little barbs sticking out of one end, flesh embedded inside of the hooks. A microchip, a neurotransmitter; something no bigger than a kidney bean had been implanted to incapacitate, stun, and erase all that Aang had been. When his eyes, full of confusion, of surprise, recognition, met with mine, the dam broke, unleashing my ferocity, rushing forward, rapid and overwhelming, crashing over the girl. I would have killed her, there was no doubt in my mind.

My ribs sounded when I pulled my shirt and sweater over my head; they weren't broken, thankfully, but like my face, severely bruised. The warm water of the shower acted as a natural pain reliever, leaving me with a dull ache in nearly every joint rather than the sharp pain I had initially woke with.

Everyone else in the house was still asleep. Aang had taken advantage of the extra space on the couch, his legs were propped up on the arm opposite his head. Toph lay flat on her back, sprawled out on the floor. Sokka was stretched out awkwardly on the chair, his mouth wide open. I chuckled, picking up an extra pillow off of the loveseat, positioning it carefully under his head.

"_No, Aang, not yet," I whispered urgently, pulling on the back of his shirt, his back slamming into my torso, knocking the both of us onto our butts. He threw me a dirty look before peering around the corner, checking to make sure no one had been disturbed. I rose an eyebrow in question, and he gave me a curt nod._

_He made a gesture with his hands, and I nodded; I had the piece of rubber clenched tightly in my hand. We both began to creep slowly around the corner and into Sokka's room; this was one of our favorite games. The both of us had to stifle our laughter as he came into view: he had fallen asleep with a bag of crisps in his hand, crumbs were scattered all over his shirt, all over the floor. His mouth hung wide open as it always did, his head lolled over to the side of the chair he sat on._

_Aang signaled me forward with a quick wave of his fingers after he had checked behind us to ensure that we wouldn't be caught in the act by higher authority. I crept forward on the balls of my feet, holding my breath as I stood only a foot away from him, the rubber spider dangling from my fingers over his mouth. I looked at Aang, who nodded, telling me that he was ready. My fingers relaxed; I hit the mark, I was already half way out of the room when Sokka's breath caught, the both of us sitting on the floor in my room when he released a scream._

_We were always busted when our laughter made its way through the walls._

I leaned over Aang's sleeping form and kissed his cheek. '_Target acquired.'_

The sun was beginning to rise, its rays peeking through the navy blue curtains that hung on the window by the door. The smell of breakfast cooking wafted into my nostrils, making me realize just how hungry I was. My father dropped his utensils instantaneously, wrapping his arms around me, his larger frame almost swallowing me whole.

"I'm glad you're finally awake, little one," he said, returning to his cooking. I picked up a spatula and flipped an over-due pancake.

"How long was I asleep for?" I realized I had no idea as to how long we had actually been here.

"Almost a full twelve hours." My eyes widened, my guilt deepening; Aang had gone through as much as I had, and he had held out for so much longer than I had been able to.

"Well that explains why I'm so hungry," I said nonchalantly, earning a laugh from my father. We worked together in silence, enjoying each other's company. I flipped another half dozen pancakes, while he scrambled as many eggs before he spoke again.

"I've missed having you here," he looked at me from the corner of his eye, "cooking isn't much fun without my little helper." I smiled.

"I've missed you too, Daddy." I met his gaze, his kind eyes squinting as he smiled warm-heartedly, "I'm sorry I haven't visited you more often."

He shook his head at me, looking back down at the pan, scraping the eggs out of it and into a large bowl. "He needed you more." I said nothing in reply; he was right. The both of us shutting off our respective burners, and turned to setting out a few plates and some silverware when someone cleared their throat behind us.

Toph stood there in the doorway, sleep yet to leave her eyes; "There's someone outside; they've been pacing back and forth pretty loudly for the past five minutes." I was suddenly very grateful for Toph's sensitive ears; my dad and I looked at each other, setting the dishes down hurriedly on the counter and running for the front door.

He held his hand out, ordering me to stay where I was; I flattened myself against the wall, and peeked through the curtains. Sure enough, a figure in dark, loose fitting clothing was standing in front of the door, muttering things that I had no chance at hearing.

Toph shook Sokka awake, her finger held over her lips, signaling for him to be quiet as she gestured to the door with a nod of her head. His eyes widened, and he jumped up off the chair, crawling over to where Aang slept, and nudging him awake as well.

As soon as his eyes assessed the situation, he crossed the room, putting me behind him, placing himself between me and the door. My father reached for the lock, turning it slowly, as noiselessly as possible; the click resounded loudly in our ears. He threw open the door swiftly, abruptly, the figure on the other side jumped, almost falling backwards and into the hedges.

No gunfire, no blades, no explosions, no red lipstick; we all released a breath. The figure collected himself and spoke, "Are you Hakoda?"

Both Aang and I tensed immediately, the voice was familiar; my father took note of this, and began to shorten the gap between door and frame. He nodded, affirming the man's question.

"I'm looking for someone," he spoke again erasing any doubts we had. We had been found, infiltrated; all illusions of safety were now shattered. Aang took a step towards the door, throwing my father a look; asking for permission to step in. He nodded, and Aang made himself visible to the man on the other side.

"What in the hell do you want?" His voice was harsh, cold; his eyes scanned the horizon. As he opened his mouth to reply, he was cut off:

"Who is this, Aang?" Asked my father, who had taken a step closer to the door upon hearing the hostility in Aang's voice.

I answered for him, weaving my way under Aang's arm, and onto the front porch, forcing the man backwards. "Someone who is not welcome here; this is the enemy."


	12. Chapter 12

**So, I have received a few requests for some fluff to be had, and I have given this to you in this chapter, but only enough to get you by for an extra one. I couldn't take it too far, because I'm trying to stick to a 'T' rating for this particular fic, and it wouldn't really fit into the plot very well if I were to do as such. Anyway, I hope you enjoy what I **_**have**_** included.**

**Quidditchchick004: this is what you've been waiting for. :]**

**The next time chapter will update you guys on Azula and Suki.**

**Enjoy! Please review if you like what you read. :] Thank you to all of you who have, I really appreciate your kind words!**

**12. Enlightenment**

"I'm going to go wash off," I stood up, turning my back on the conversation, "I still have your filth all over my hands and neck." I glanced over my shoulder to see Zuko look down at his fingers, guilt, shame, humiliation radiating from him and his sunken shoulders. I would probably regret my comment later, but for now, I felt satisfied in having brought him some sort of remorse. No one said a word as I left the room.

I shut the bathroom door behind me, standing in front of the sink. My fingernails were a ruddy brown color, the color of dried blood; I grimaced, disgusted and angry. The water burnt my hands as I scrubbed them down vigorously, trying to erase the deceit, treachery, and pain from my skin. Tears began to fall from my eyes; I clenched them together tightly, trying to stop myself; my need for release was too strong; everything that had been exposed to me in the past hour hit me all at once. I let myself crumple to the floor; a sob shook through my body as I cried silent tears, the tears of the enlightened.

"_Please, let me explain," he pleaded, dropping to his knees in front of Katara, taking her by surprise, relaxing slightly. He took this as his cue to continue._

"_I'm not here to hurt anyone," there was desperation in his voice, "I'm here to help you."_

_I stepped forward and in front of Katara, angry, enraged, my blood rising to the surface of my skin, an eerie glow emanating from my figure, I ignored the buzzing in the back of my mind telling me that this was not normal._

"_What in the hell makes you think we want _your_ help?" Katara placed a gentle hand on my back, signaling me to calm myself; I pulled my face away from his. _

"_I don't expect you to trust me," He said, his eyes meeting with mine, the same color as his sister's; this did nothing to help settle my nerves, "but I need to tell you about what my father did to you, what I did to you, to fix everything." The promise of an explanation, of answers convincing me that giving him the chance to speak was the most prudent course of action. He saw the look on my face change, and his eyes lit up, slightly more hopeful and exponentially less fearful than they had been only a few seconds previous._

_He held out his arms in front of him, "Tie me up if you must, I'm not here to fight." I took a step backwards, turning to look at Hakoda. His lips were set in a frown, but he gave a curt nod and then turned to his side, opening up the doorway just enough to squeeze through._

_I moved to the side as well, Katara remaining behind me as Zuko walked past us and into the house. Sokka directed him into the kitchen where he took a seat in one of the chairs at the table. No one else made a move to sit, to sit would be to let our guards down; I stood closest to the knife drawer._

_Everyone was silent, no one knew where to begin or what questions to ask. I looked over at Katara, she stood on the far side of the room, a good distance away from Zuko; for this I was grateful. Hakoda stood to the left of the boy, his arms crossed, his gaze stern, steady, and unwavering. Sokka took the right side, his expression mimicking that of his father's; Toph stood at Katara's side, one hand resting on her shoulder for support._

"_I'm sorry," he said, looking first at me and then at Katara, "so very sorry for everything I've put you through." _

"_It's a little late for that isn't it?" Sokka spoke out, his words harsh but accurate no-less; I nodded in agreement. Zuko frowned, looking down at his hands that sat folded on the table in front of him._

"_Say what you have to, Zuko," I said, I saw no need for beating around the bush; for empty words. He looked up upon hearing his name, meeting my gaze; he nodded. Every one of us subconsciously moved towards him, eager for the answers he had promised._

"_Did you know your parents, Aang?" Irritation rushed through me as he spoke my name, using it as if we were good friends, I ignored it however, and shook my head._

"_Do you know why that is?" Once again, I shook my head, dread beginning to pool in my stomach, somehow already knowing the answer._

"_My father made sure of it," he said bitterly; his dislike for his father was clear in his tone. Katara crossed the room, grabbing a hold of my hand, her fingers intertwining with my own._

"_Your father had something he wanted, something that he had no way of obtaining without him being dead first," He wasn't looking at me anymore, his eyes were on Katara, on the way she was watching my face, gauging my expression. I didn't like his eyes on her, it felt dirty, wrong; he didn't deserve to look at her._

"_When my father told you that it was all about business," he paused, taking a breath, "he meant it." I wasn't following; I had never gotten the chance to know what my father had done for a living, surely he should know this. _

"_Both of our parents sold goods on the black market, Aang, they were business partners," my eyebrows skyrocketed, "your father just happened to be the better businessman; associates favored him, trusted him, invested in him. My father envied him." The room continued to be completely silent with the exception of our breathing, the tension only broken when Zuko continued his narrative._

"_He tolerated all of this until one client in particular made a deal with him, the largest shipment of goods they had handled yet; all of the money made, the power it gave your father was too much. He poisoned your parents at their anniversary party, you were only a few months old." My face twisted into one of disbelief, of pain; my father's last moments on Earth had consisted of betrayal and disloyalty, there could be nothing more tragic; Katara's arms wove themselves around my waist._

"_He had failed to recognize the bond between a father and his child; he assumed that he had been accredited everything in your father's will, money, business title's, clients, property, everything. Instead, your father left everything to you; he received absolutely nothing; his arrogance had been his downfall." _

"_Why didn't he just kill me then?" I interjected, failing to see any reason for having allowed me to live._

"_The will had been prepared eloquently; it came with explicit instructions, stating that you were not to inherit any of your father's assets until you reached the age of twenty-five. The only thing it didn't include, was what would happen to you if you were to be left parentless; there were no records of any other immediate family members that you could be sent to, and so you were sent directly into foster care. My father couldn't have gotten away with killing both of your parents and then their child without it drawing attention to his business affairs." I nodded in understanding, accepting that this made total sense; I told him to continue._

_He took another breath before speaking, "He had managed to pique the interest of one detective; he had been particularly close with your parents, and was rather fond of you, his name was Gyatso," he looked up at me expectantly, cautiously. I had lived with Gyatso for the first five years of my life, he had been the closest thing to a father I had ever known. He himself had passed away shortly after my tenth birthday; I received a notice from the agency telling me about it. I remember crying for hours, locked in my room, upset with myself for not having spoken to him in almost an entire year. I now questioned the means at which he had died; the look in Zuko's eyes confirming my suspicions. Katara knew all of this, a sound of discontent, of pity, sympathy passed through her lips; she was feeling everything I felt._

"_If it hadn't been for Gyatso's persistence, my father would have intervened a lot sooner."_

"_What about the car accident?" asked Katara, I knew that this had been the question foremost in her mind. His eyes met with hers, taking on a new look: one of admiration. Hakoda took a seat on the side opposite of Zuko, his head falling into his hands._

"_That was my doing," he said shamefully. There was no more room in my heart for surprise, I felt nothing. Sokka turned away from him, looking at Toph. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips went taunt. Katara's fingers tightened their grip on my waist._

"_I planned the whole thing: I calculated the point of interception, I hired the man who rammed his car into yours, I set up the ambulance who took the two of you to a privately owned hospital, I found the man who developed the chip we put in your head, I hired the surgeons to put it to use," his voice had begun to die off towards the end, losing its potency._

"_How could you?" The words slipped from my mouth before I had even acknowledged their prevalence in my thoughts._

"_Like my father had underestimated your father's love for you, I had overestimated the love my father held for me; I wanted to make him proud, to out-do my sister, to finally do something worth mention," his voice had begun to pick up again, his confidence returning, "I have never regretted anything so much in my entire life."_

"_Do you realize how much pain you've caused?" Hakoda spoke up, the level of his voice startling everyone in the room. Zuko brushed back his hair, pulling his dark locks out of his face, exposing a nasty scar that consumed nearly all of the tissue of his left eye._

"_Yes," his hair fell back into his face as he brought his hands back down onto the table, and looked up at Katara once more, "I can see it in your faces; it's why I want to help you, why I need to help you."_

All of the sudden, a pair of warm hands enveloped my own, pulling me to my feet and into the body they belonged to; her scent flooded my nostrils and I relaxed into her embrace.

"It's going to be OK, Aang," she whispered in my ear, her fingers ran through my hair and down my neck. I shook my head stubbornly, leaning over further than I normally would, my whole body sagging; I buried my face in the warmth of her neck.

"What are we going to do?" I asked; I needed her strength, her comfort. She kissed my ear and ran her hands up and down my back, stopping when she reached the point on my neck that was still in need of cleaning. She pulled away from me, her hands pushing me forward, instructing me to sit on the bathroom counter.

She turned away from me, reaching into the shower, turning the knobs a few times before finding an agreeable temperature. Her fingers played with the hem of my dirty shirt for a moment before she lifted the fabric above my head, throwing it into the corner of the small room. Her fingers brushed away any traces of tears I had left from my cheeks, and pressed her body into mine.

"I don't know," she said, placing a hand on my heart, "but we'll figure it out." Her warm lips pressed against my temple and I closed my eyes, enjoying the soothing affect it had on me.

"For now," she said, pulling away once more, "we need to focus on getting you cleaned up and comfortable. You're a mess." I had to give it to her; this woman could make me smile no matter what life threw at us. My hands found their way to her hips, pulling her towards me, and in between my legs; her chest flush with mine.

She closed the distance between our faces, my lips quickly asserting their dominance over hers, my tongue gliding over her bottom lip; her mouth parting almost immediately. Our tongues touched, and all of the hurt was forgotten, the only thing my mind was focused on was her, the way she tasted, her scent, the softness of the skin of her neck underneath my fingertips, the way her body was pushing itself into mine in.

Our positions had changed, she was sitting on the counter, her legs wrapped around my waist, our centers pressed together, delicious heat building, comparable to the steaming water only a few feet from us. My body tingling as she whispers my name into my ear, asking for more, asking for me to love her. Her clothes had found their way onto the floor, my pants had been pulled off my body shortly thereafter; I was more comfortable in that moment than I had been in months.

No one said a word about the lack of hot water in the house.


End file.
